


Longing

by Angelise (angelise7)



Series: Longing [1]
Category: NCIS
Genre: Altered Character History, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Happy Ending, Jethro being the bastard we all know he can be, M/M, Make damn sure you read the author's notes because otherwise tags will spoil the story!, Past Relationship(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-05
Updated: 2015-09-30
Packaged: 2018-04-16 19:55:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 45,528
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4638195
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angelise7/pseuds/Angelise
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Romance between agents, Tony; it never works."  </p><p>Tony didn't abide by this particular 'Gibbs' rule.  Unfortunately his boss did, leaving Tony emotionally battered and bruised.  A brief lapse of control, a sweet taste of heaven, and Tony was once again shown the door.  How many more times would he allow Gibbs to reject his heart?  How many more times would he reach for the unattainable when true love was standing right in front of him?  Only he could make that decision.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Finally! The muse is finally prepared to tackle my NCIS novella from way back when, as in 2006. I'll be posting it one section at a time and if I can find the artwork that went with the story, I'll include those.
> 
> IMPORTANT -- please note this novella is based on Seasons 1 and 2. Any information we learned about the characters after these particular seasons is not included.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony gets his heart stomped on.
> 
> (Builds on a scene from Season 1 episode: Minimum Security.)

“And which **brain** is thinking that, DiNozzo?”

The raw pain that slammed into his heart stole Anthony DiNozzo’s breath away, and for several seconds, he couldn’t think, couldn’t speak. All he could do was stare at his boss, Leroy Jethro Gibbs, and listen to the sound of his heart splintering.

Finally the pain released him, and the thirty-two year old NCIS agent stood up and turned his chair around so that it properly faced the table. “Hitting the rack,” he announced, the words forced out of a throat that was threatening to strangle him. Facing the greatest test of his willpower to date, the ex-cop managed to leave without looking back at the man who had just wounded him beyond belief.

Tony made it to his room before his legs gave way, and with an aborted moan, slid to the floor. Desperate to ease the burning sting of tears that were obscuring his sight, he scrubbed at his eyes and whispered brokenly, “Why do I try? Why in the hell do I even try?”

Through the partially open door, he could hear Kate coming to his defence and taking Jethro to task. “You know, Gibbs, sometimes you can be a real ---”

“Bastard.”

Jethro had supplied the word without hesitation, and Tony couldn’t help but agree with a slight nod of his head. Never in the two years he had worked with Jethro had he ever been accused of improper behaviour, of thinking with his dick instead of his head as implied by his boss.

Yes, he had volunteered to check out Special Agent Paula Cassidy for Jethro, to see if she was connected in any way to the dead Petty Officer discovered to be smuggling gems out of Camp Delta at Guantanamo Bay, Cuba. Yes, he had flirted with her shamelessly, but it was all completely innocent, and in no way headed in the direction Jethro had just rudely suggested.

Shit!

Tony closed his eyes and wearily leaned his head against the wall behind him. Minutes dragged by while he grappled with his emotions—the disbelief, the disappointment, the overwhelming depression that was quickly dragging him down.

How could Jethro think that about him? His boss knew he didn’t swing that way, a fact that had been blatantly revealed the day Chad, his so very ex-boyfriend, had disregarded all warnings and kissed him in full view of Jethro late one night when he was in need of a ride home. And even if he was straight, he would **never** allow his libido to interfere with the investigation of a case. That’s not how the DiNozzo men operated.

Tony slammed his head against the wall in frustration. Jethro was a tough man to love, and up until this moment, he had actually thought he had a chance with him. Heated looks, unobtrusive touches and playful verbal jousting, all had provided him with what he thought was irrefutable proof of Jethro’s interest in him.

Obviously, he had deduced wrong.

Wrong in a major, sucker punch to the heart, way.

“You bastard. You fucking bastard,” he cursed beneath his breath. The pain of humiliation, of heartbreak returned once again to shatter the tenuous grip he had on his control. His voice broke as he asked, “Damn it, Gibbs, do you have any idea how much….”

A hand cupped the side of his face, and callused fingers saturated with the scent of sawdust brushed tenderly along the curve of his cheek. He gripped the hand for a brief second before opening his eyes to the sight of the man he loved bending down over him.

Silently, Jethro scrutinized him, and Tony nearly gasped aloud when the former Marine grazed his lower lip with his thumb.

“Boss, you know I would never….”

Jethro hushed him with a shake of his head, and again, the two of them just stared at each other—Tony devouring the intimacy of the moment, Jethro silent and restrained. Finally Jethro spoke, and Tony knew, without a doubt, the fates had denied him a future with his boss.

“Romance between agents, Tony, it **never** works.”

Before he could blink or even take a breath, he found himself alone again.

“Wait. Let me….”

His anguished plea was offered to the silent shadows that surrounded him, and that fact alone brought back the pain tenfold.

Digging out his cellphone, he dialled a familiar number, and once connected, struggled unsuccessfully to keep his voice strong and steady. “Ducky… Could I… I need… Is Gerald there, Ducky? I need to talk to him.”

Tony slumped further down the wall and took immeasurable comfort in the deep voice that offered him everything Jethro wouldn’t.

“Tony, I’m here. Tell me what’s wrong, my friend.”

 

Dr. Donald ‘Ducky’ Mallard, Medical Examiner for NCIS, watched his assistant, Gerald Jackson, place the annoying music device he was constantly listening to on the counter before accepting the phone. With a small smile of appreciation sent in his direction, Gerald took a seat on a nearby stool and gently cradled the phone in his hands while he spoke to young DiNozzo. The look of hopeless longing that took shape on the man’s face explained the reason why Gerald was always more than willing to hand-deliver reports to Jethro’s team upstairs.

“Hmmm… I wonder if I’ve told Gerald how I, during my younger years of experimentation, also experienced a forlorn yearning for a certain dark-haired, debonair playboy who just happened to be….”

The ringing of his personal cellphone halted his musings. “Mallard here.”

“Ducky. I need to talk to you about Tony.”

“Jethro, I swear sometimes you are….”

“A bastard. I know, Ducky. I **know**.”

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony -- and others -- visit a friend at the hospital

Whistling merrily, Tony exited the hospital elevator and immediately sidestepped a cart of flower arrangements headed straight for him. He expertly caught the wobbly conveyance and saved it from crashing into the closing doors of the elevator he had just exited.

“Does this unruly beast belong to you, dear lady?” he asked, returning the cart to the out-of-breath volunteer rushing toward him.

“Darn thing got away from me. Thanks for catching it.”

“No problem. Rescuing runaway flowers is a specialty of mine.” Favouring the grey-haired woman with a mischievous wink, he lifted her outstretched hand and kissed it lightly. He grinned when he saw the answering blush that spread across the older woman’s cheeks. “Until next time, my lady.”

Assured that the cart and its passengers were no longer in jeopardy, Tony headed down the corridor that led to his friend’s room. He came upon a group of female nursing students gathered around their instructor and couldn’t resist easing their obvious nervousness with a teasing grin. The excited giggles and appreciative gasps that followed in his wake were wisely ignored.

Without a doubt, women loved him, and equally, without a doubt, he loved them right back. He loved flirting with them, teasing them, and as was the case with his colleague, Kate, infuriating them with his unrelenting meddling. Unfortunately for the ladies, that’s as far as it went.

If asked, he would simply say women were his hobby, but men were his passion. His heart and his body craved the male form, especially the tall, muscular, well-built form of the man he was secretly in love with.

Jethro Gibbs.

Suddenly it was his turn to let out a sigh of appreciation, followed quickly by one of despair.

 _None of that, DiNozzo,_ he chastened himself with a shake of a finger. _It’s too beautiful a day to get down in the dumps over that man. Yeah, but Jethro isn’t just any man. He’s much more. He’s—._

Ducky’s voice interrupted his thoughts.

“You, my boy, are a born Lothario.”

“That’s what my momma always told me, Ducky.”

Tony dropped down in the chair beside his friend and lowered to the floor the collection of books he’d been carrying. “How’s our patient,” he asked, his carefree smile transforming into an openly concerned frown.

Despite his happy-go-lucky attitude, he was still having trouble dealing with the events of the past week. Kate, Ducky and Gerald had recently been taken hostage by a terrorist. The man known as Ari had expertly infiltrated NCIS, stolen evidence and escaped without a trace, but not before shooting both Gerald and Jethro. Gerald had been shot point blank in his left shoulder joint and had nearly lost his arm because of the sadistic bastard. He hoped the man would soon be rotting in hell for the pain he had inflicted upon the two men for whom he cared deeply.

“Is the doc in with Gerald?” he asked. “Is that why you’re sitting out here?”

Marking his place, Ducky, with a nod of his head, indicated the room across from where they were waiting. “Our young associate is receiving his daily bed bath.” Without warning, a screech was heard through the closed door, and the two of them shared a conspiratorial grin.

Bounding back to his feet, Tony flexed the muscles in his arms. “Sounds like a certain someone needs rescuing, and I’m just the man for the job.”

“You are indeed, Anthony,” Ducky proclaimed. “You are indeed the man for the job.”

Ignoring his friend’s not so subtle hint, Tony busied himself with the books on the floor. “The hospital’s gift shop had quite a collection of mysteries. Hope Gerald hasn’t read any of them.”

Ducky collected one of the books that had slipped beyond his reach. The sixty-year-old ME handed it over before returning his own magazine to the stack on the table in front of his chair. “Since you seem more than able to take on the task of rescuing poor Gerald, I shall retire to the dining hall and attempt once more to find something worthy of ingesting.”

“Hope your life insurance is paid up,” Tony joked, a wide grin spreading across his face when Ducky gave him the patented Mallard stare. Another shriek signalled Gerald’s increasing state of distress, and he waved goodbye. “Onward into battle I go,” he announced to the remaining patrons sitting in the small furnished alcove.

With a final glance at Ducky’s retreating form, he walked toward Gerald’s room, remembering how many times in the past Gerald had come to his rescue, especially after his break-up with Liam. Gerald was the only friend who had stuck by him, the only one who had cared enough to force him into acknowledging and dealing with his feelings. Gerald had also been the one to coax him back into circulation and had cheered with great enthusiasm when he announced he was dating again.

Gerald was his best friend and thus deserved to be rescued from the horrendous torture being inflicted upon him by whichever aide had been assigned to give him a bath that day. 

Chuckling, he entered the room, and the sight that greeted him reminded him instantly of a damsel in distress. _Or would that be a knight in distress? Or maybe laddie, chap, bloke? What about gent?_ His musing came to an abrupt halt the second Gerald set eyes upon him.

“Tony! Help!”

He tried his best to hold back his laughter, but it slipped out helplessly the closer he moved to the bed.

With his good arm, an extremely distraught and embarrassed Gerald was clutching to his groin what appeared to be a bath towel. Standing beside the bed, hands on hips, strands of grey hair plastered to her forehead, was a diminutive elderly nurse’s aide. Pointedly ignoring his laughter, the woman took hold of the towel Gerald had a death grip on and gave it a firm tug. She was, without a doubt he decided, determined to win the battle of the bath.

“Wait! **Wait**!”

Gerald’s voice escalated with each tug of the towel, and Tony couldn’t help but hang back for a few extra seconds to see whose willpower was the strongest. From the look on Grandma Tiny’s face, he was pretty sure Gerald was about to reveal his family jewels to the world.

“Are you gonna help me or what?”

The question was barely out of Gerald’s mouth when he groaned in pain, and Tony immediately moved to his side, placing his hand over the towel of contention. “If you don’t mind, sweet lady, I’ll finish up things here. Maybe you’d like to take a short break and rest those gorgeous legs of yours?”

The nurse’s aide opened her mouth to protest, but the moment her gaze lit upon his boyish smile, she relinquished her hold and blushed. “You’re too kind, young man. Unlike this rascal.” She shook a finger at Gerald. “Son, I’ve seen it all, and yours ain’t no different. Tomorrow, you **will** let me give you a complete bed bath, and you **won’t** be givin’ me one lick of trouble. You hear?”

Gerald’s eyes grew wide with dread, and he wisely nodded his head in agreement, letting out a ragged sigh of relief when his tormenter exited his room.

Before Tony could remove his hand, Gerald had claimed it in a bruising grip before pleading, “Please tell me you’ll be stopping by this time tomorrow. In fact, why don’t you just make this your regularly scheduled time to visit?” He cocked his head in the direction of the door. “Friends help friends, right? Don’t you want to save me from the wicked witch of the west?”

Tony laughed while easing his hand free, and without blinking an eye, he assisted Gerald in finishing his bath. Tossing him a second towel to dry with, he turned to the task of emptying the water from the basin and deliberately ignored the look of desire that flashed in Gerald’s eyes. He knew the man was attracted to him; and if he was honest with himself, he’d be the first to admit the attraction was mutual. Unfortunately, his heart was not in love with Gerald, and he refused to jeopardize their friendship with sex. “Be right back,” he offered with a light slap to Gerald’s right arm.

Upon returning from the bathroom, he found the towel he had handed over earlier on the floor and Gerald fussing with the sheet that now covered his lower torso.

“Can you help me into that thing? It’s getting a little drafty in here.”

Gerald pointed to the hospital gown slung over the back of the chair that was to the side of the bed. “As much as I hate it, I’m gonna have to wear the damn thing. I’ve run out of clean clothes to wear.”

His friend laughed when he made a show of modeling the light blue hospital gown. “If I promise you one of Mom’s peach cobblers, would you do some laundry for me?” Gerald asked. “The bag you packed and brought from home is now filled with dirty sweats. I’d ask Ducky, but he’s been working overtime since I’ve been out of commission.”

Gritting his teeth, the thirty-three year old kept his eyes focused on the ceiling as the hospital gown was carefully slipped over his left arm and shoulder. “Shit! Goddamn, son of a bitch!”

After taking a second to admire what he could see of Gerald’s physique, Tony tied the gown together at the neck. “Need to me to call the nurse? See if you can have some pain medicine?”

“Hurts like hell three times over, but no, don’t call the nurse. I can handle the pain as long as I don’t jostle the arm too much.” Gerald slapped his hands away when he tried to pull back the sheet and tuck the gown around his friend’s waist and thighs. “You’ve seen enough for one day, Slick. I can get it from here.”

Chuckling, Tony relinquished his hold on the gown and gathered together the books he had tossed aside earlier. “Brought you some books to read. Mysteries, right? Ducky said those were your favorites.”

He dragged the room’s lone straight-back chair closer to the bed and sat down, a huge yawn slipping out as he watched Gerald examine each book. “I can return them for a refund if you have copies of ‘em already.”

Letting go of another yawn, he braced his elbows on the side of the mattress and propped his chin in his hands. Between all the hours he was putting in at work and those spent visiting Gerald, he hadn’t been getting much sleep, and it definitely was beginning to take its toll. Not to mention all the hours he wasted thinking about—

“How’s the investigation? Any leads?”

Gerald’s voice caught him by surprise, and he realized he had dozed off for a few seconds. “Huh? The investigation?”

Rubbing his hands over his face, he frowned at the feel of stubble covering his chin and cheeks. “Shit,” he muttered. He had been in such a hurry to get to the hospital before work, he had forgotten to shave. Lowering his chin to the bed, he cocked his head to the side and looked up at Gerald. “It’s like the S.O.B. never existed. We haven’t found one trace of him. Not one.”

“The investigation’s still ongoing, right? You haven’t closed the case yet?” Gerald scooted over slightly, giving him more room for his arms.

“Hell, no! I mean, yeah, we’ve had to move on to other stuff because of the lack of leads but Gibbs… G-man, there’s no doubt in my mind that Gibbs will find this bastard and nail his ass to the wall. You know how much he hates to lose.”

He lifted a hand to Gerald’s injured shoulder and gently traced the outline of the bulky dressing that lay beneath the gown his friend wore. “Not to mention how he gets when one of his people is wounded. That terrorist might as well turn himself in. I sure as hell wouldn’t want Gibbs on my tail.”

“I beg to differ.” With a poignant smile on his face, Gerald gripped his hand for a brief second before guiding it back down to the mattress.

“Huh?”

Tony stared at their hands, surprised at how long and slender Gerald’s fingers were and how good it felt to be holding his hand. It had been a long time since he had enjoyed the pleasure of being touched by another man—Liam had been the last one, and that relationship had bitten the dust shortly after he was assigned to Jethro’s team.

Keeping hold of Gerald’s hand, he looked up and asked, “What did you say?”

Gerald attempted to pull free but gave up when the grip on his hand tightened. “It was nothing. Just me trying to make a joke.”

“A joke? What kind of joke?” Grinning, he tugged Gerald’s hand closer and tucked it under his cheek. “You might as well tell me, ‘cause you know I’ll keep hounding you ‘til you do.”

Inhaling sharply, Gerald closed his eyes briefly before replying. “You made the comment you wouldn’t want Gibbs on your tail, and I said I begged to differ.”

Tony felt his smile wither into a wounded frown. Before he could offer any comment, Gerald was already apologizing.

“Sorry, man. Bad joke. Didn’t mean to….”

“It’s okay.” Tony rubbed his cheek against Gerald’s hand before dropping his gaze and hiding his eyes from his very astute companion. “I know it’s been a couple of months now, but it still hurts. Wish it didn’t, but it does.”

“Has he said anything else?”

He shook his head and sighed wearily. “He gives me these looks sometimes, but nope, he hasn’t said anything else to me.”

“What kind of looks?”

Finally he allowed Gerald to pull his hand free and smiled when his friend’s hand found a new home tangled in his hair. He couldn’t help but let out a whisper-quiet sound of contentment when Gerald began to stroke his hair in a soothing manner.

“Is it the ‘I-can’t-stand-you-because-I can’t-have-you look?” Gerald asked. “Or is it the I-want-you-so-damn-much-but-I-won’t-act-on-it-because-it’s-not-regs look?”

“Yeah, the last one. And fuck, I know this sounds wimp-ass and whatnot, but when Gibbs looks at me like that, it rips my heart out all over again.”

He buried his face in his hands. “Shit! I hate knowing there could have been something. And if you want to know the truth, I really wish he would have just kept his mouth shut and let me remain oblivious.”

Lowering his hands, he rested his chin on the bed and took a few moments to regain control over his emotions. His control was unexpectedly threatened when he felt Gerald tenderly grip the nape of his neck, and all of a sudden he couldn’t hold back the mournful sigh he had been struggling to contain.

“I remember you telling me about that list of rules Gibbs keeps quoting to you and Kate,” Gerald commented, echoing his sigh. “And as hard as it might be to swallow, Slick, your boss is never gonna make a move on you as long as you’re a member of his team. I’ve forgotten what rule it is exactly, but you can bet he hasn’t.”

Tony let his eyes drift closed when Gerald’s fingers shifted back into his hair so that he could brush the bangs away from his forehead. The man’s touch was so tender and caring, it nearly broke his heart. Why couldn’t he have fallen in love with Gerald instead of Jethro?

“Have you thought about transferring to another team?” Gerald inquired. “Maybe Gibbs would be more open to a relationship if you weren’t one of his agents. Tony. Tony?”

Taking comfort in the way Gerald was carefully carding his fingers through his hair, Tony kept his eyes shut and pretended he was asleep. He even let out a soft snore, hoping it would silence the questions he did not want to answer.

It wasn’t long before he noticed that the longer he continued with his pretence, the bolder Gerald’s caresses became. He cautioned his heart to ignore the feelings Gerald’s touch were evoking. Gerald was his friend and deserved to be loved by one whose heart wasn’t in utter turmoil, and at this moment that person was **not** Anthony DiNozzo.

Finally, Gerald’s hand stilled, and when it came to rest upon his shoulder, Tony cracked an eye open and saw that his friend had fallen asleep. Turning his head sideways, he closely examined Gerald’s relaxed features and felt his heart lurch at the sight of the man’s smile. It was a smile filled with extreme love and longing.

“Oh, G-man.”

He hid his face by tucking it against Gerald’s thigh and wept for a love he couldn’t freely offer to the man that was the single most important person in his life.

 

 

Ducky slowly exited the room and was carefully pulling the door shut when a hand clasped him on the arm. Glancing back, he was surprised to find Jethro standing behind him.

“How’s Gerald?” Jethro asked.

Ducky examined his long-time friend for a full minute, taking into account the dark circles beneath his eyes and the deep grooves of strain that bracketed his mouth. Between the incident with young DiNozzo and the recent hostage situation, Jethro was a walking time bomb both emotionally and physically, and the match necessary to light the fuse more than likely lay inside the room he had just departed.

 _What a dilemma_ , he thought. In fact, it reminded him of the time when he, himself, had been faced with the choice of committing his heart to his job or to the man who, like Jethro, was dedicated to his chosen profession and would never wholly be his.

 _I wonder_. He patted his pockets, searching for the small black book that contained an address and phone number that only he knew.

“Earth to Ducky.”

Fingers snapped in front of his face.

“Come on, Ducky. Focus.”

Shaking himself slightly, he let out an indignant huff before saying, “Gerald is doing as well as can be expected for someone who’s been shot in the shoulder and forced to endure not one, not two but **three** surgeries. Of course, I don’t expect you to take my word for it.” Ducky waved his hand at the door behind him. “Take a look for yourself.”

Jethro aimed a frown of confusion at his friend before pushing past him and quietly entering the hospital room. His greeting for Ducky’s injured assistant died on his lips when he got a look at the person sitting beside the bed with his arms and head resting on the mattress.

Sparing a glance at the sleeping Gerald, he stepped closer to the bed and took time to drink his fill of Tony’s handsome features. Feelings he had placed under lock and key rose up to strangle his breath, and helplessly he reached out a hand, allowing his callused fingers to savour the forbidden velvety texture of Tony’s hair.

Demons from his past screamed for him to remove himself from a temptation that was sure to lead him down the path of self-destruction again. Refusing to listen, he moved closer to Tony and whispered words the sleeping man would never hear.

“I want you, Anthony DiNozzo. Want you more than the air that I breathe.”

 

 

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jethro has a history that still to this day has a grip on his heart.

 

“I’m telling you, Kate, you’ll find the best calzones in town are at D’Angelo’s. They really pile on the cheese and the sauce.” Tony licked his lips and closed his eyes in bliss. “Nobody can make sauce like Angelo.” Grinning, he looked up and winked at the woman standing in front of his desk. “One bite of one of his calzones and you’ll swear you’ve died and gone to heaven.”

Kate tucked her purse strap more securely on her shoulder. “I can’t believe you eat there. Not only is it a hole-in-the-wall restaurant, but it’s located so far off the beaten track, I can’t even begin to understand how it stays in business.”

He waved away his colleague’s criticism before getting to his feet and pulling his jacket off the back of his chair. “It’s owned and run by Angelo’s family, fourth generation Italians. And the food is so good, it keeps you coming back for more, no matter how far you have to go to get it.”

He slipped on his jacket and chuckled when his stomach growled noisily. He hadn’t eaten since early morning when he’d shared a breakfast of hot cocoa and chocolate-chip muffins with Gerald at the hospital. It was definitely time to chow down, and a stuffed cheese-pepperoni-sausage calzone was sounding pretty good. _Wonder if Gerald would like one_ , he thought.

“Considering all the stuff you eat, your arteries must be clogged to the max.” Kate bent down and collected the folder that he had inadvertently knocked to the floor when pulling on his jacket. “One of these days you’re going to drop dead of a massive heart attack.”

“Ahhh…” He accepted the folder and threw it back on the pile that was precariously perched on the corner of his cluttered desk. “But at least I’ll go happy.” He slipped his hand in the crook of Kate’s arm. “Come on, Katy, me darlin.’ Come with me to D’Angelo’s.” He waggled his eyebrows invitingly. “I’ll pay.”

“Unbelievable. **You** , offering to buy **me** a meal? Let me alert the presses.”

He laid a hand over his heart and mocked being wounded. “Your words hurt me deeply, dear Caitlin.”

“You’ll live, I’m sure.” Catching sight of her newest lover, Kate smiled and gave a small wave of her hand. “Also, as astounding as it might sound, I must decline your gracious offer. **I** have a date.”

Tony nearly stumbled over Kate in an attempt to see the person she had waved at. “A date? Who with? Anyone I know? Maybe I should check him out. Make sure he’s worthy.”

“God, you sound just like my father.”

Kate pulled her keys out of her purse before giving Tony a polite pat on the arm. “Thanks, but no thanks. I’m a big girl now, and I don’t need anyone scrutinizing my dates.”

“Don’t come crying to me if he turns out to be a total bore.”

A sound behind him caught his attention, and he turned to find Jethro clearing his desk in preparation for going home.

“Boss.”

He offered his supervisor a sharp nod of the head and a tight smile before redirecting his gaze to the woman beside him. “Sure you don’t want to cancel and spend an exciting evening with me? I guarantee you’ll have loads of fun.”

“Be still my beating heart.” Laughing, Kate ducked away from the hand swung playfully at her. “See ya tomorrow.”

“Yeah. See ya.” Retrieving his Palm Pilot, Tony let out a wicked chuckle while making a note to check with his friend in Security and view the tapes from today. Kate had a new beau, and he would leave no stone unturned until he discovered the man’s identity.

He stood beside his desk for several seconds, scuffing the carpet with the toe of his shoe as he watched McGee leave for home. He certainly didn’t relish the prospect of going home to an apartment that had a sink filled with dishes growing god knows what and a washing machine that was nearly hidden from view because of all the dirty clothes piled on and around it. If one more day passed without him bringing clean clothes to Gerald . . . he didn’t even want to consider the consequences.

He snuck another glance at Jethro and saw that he was still at his desk. _Wonder—_

That thought was immediately put on hold. _Christ Almighty, DiNozzo. How many times do you have to be shot down before your idiotic brain gets the message?_

Frustrated, he ran his hand through his hair before digging his keys out of his pocket. Maybe Gerald wouldn’t mind him stopping by for another visit. Good things come in three, right? And since this would be his third trip of the day to the rehab facility, it definitely **had** to be a good thing to do. Not to mention, Gerald was extremely easy on the eyes, and if he could just get his stubborn heart to let go of the foolish notion of him and Jethro getting it on, then—

“Tony.”

To say that the sound of Jethro’s voice in his ear scared the shit out of him would have been the understatement of the year. Stunned, he dropped his keys and stumbled backwards, his left hip grazing the pile of folders on his desk and sending them to the floor.

“Shit!”

He fell to his knees and began to gather together the mess scattered across the carpet. Mentally cursing his clumsiness, he was blind to the fact that his boss had knelt down to assist him. It wasn’t until his hand collided with Jethro’s that he realized the man was right next to him. The apology that rose to his lips died a quick death when Jethro took hold of his hand and gripped it hard.

“Uh? Boss?

He felt his heart kick into warp drive when he glanced up and saw the naked longing on Jethro’s face. He instinctively leaned forward, wanting nothing more than to taste what had, up until this moment, been denied to him. Right before he reached his objective, Jethro lifted a hand to his face and gently pushed him back. He was fully prepared to voice a fierce protest, but his words evaporated into nothingness when Jethro dragged a thumb back and forth along his bottom lip.

“I overheard you recommending D’Angelo’s to Kate. Want to go there and grab a bite to eat?”

The words ‘grab’ and ‘bite’ brought a picture to mind that left him hard as a rock and panting for air. He quickly scooped up a file and hid the embarrassing bulge taking shape between his legs. “Uh, Boss, I thought… I mean… you said….”

“I **know** what I said, DiNozzo, and despite rumours to the contrary, my memory is just as sharp as it was 30 years ago.”

Jethro’s thumb pushed between his lips and grazed his teeth. The simple action did nothing to cool his desire, and it was all he could do to stop from groaning aloud when his boss slowly withdrew his thumb. He trembled helplessly as the digit in question tenderly grazed his chin on its way down his throat.

“But… but what about.…” Again his words faded into silence, but the reason this time was because Jethro was offering him the hottest kiss of all time.

Confused as all get out, Tony could only stare when Jethro pulled away and rose gracefully to his feet. _What kind of game is he playing?_ he couldn’t help asking. One minute Jethro was spouting rules and regulations and dashing all of his hope for a relationship, and the next—

He touched his swollen lips and groaned. That kiss sure as hell wasn’t regulation, and from the way Jethro was looking down at him, it wasn’t food he was hungry for.

Jethro reached out a hand to him. “Let’s go get some beer and pizza.”

Something Gerald had said to him about Jethro and his rules rose up and nagged at his brain for a second, causing him to hesitate briefly. Unable to recall his friend’s freely offered advice, he dropped the file he was holding and took Jethro’s outstretched hand. “Yeah. Beer and pizza,” he said as he was pulled to his feet. “Sounds good, Boss.”

“Jethro, Tony. Call me Jethro.”

His boss clasped him on the shoulder and guided him toward the elevator.

“Jethro. Yeah. Sounds good.” He offered a shy smile to the man walking beside him. “Sounds **real** good.”

 

 +++++++ 

 

“And that’s why my mom calls me Puddin’. Of course, now that you have knowledge of this highly sensitive information, I’m gonna have to kill you.”

Using a toothpick to free a peppercorn stuck in his tooth, Tony let the exit door slam behind him and followed Jethro down the alley to where they had parked their vehicles.

“I don’t think you want to kill me just yet, Tony.”

 

 

Discovering Jethro had somehow dropped behind him during the short walk to the rear of the building, he glanced over his shoulder, ready with one of his patented witty comebacks. The air in his lungs left in a rush when Jethro pushed him up against the side of the restaurant and latched onto his neck with his mouth. Hands gripped his shoulders and pinned him into place while a ravenous mouth moved up to devour the gasp of surprise that rose to his lips. The astonished sound was the result of a matching hardness ramming up against his own.

“Boss! Oh shit, you’re….”

“Damn it, DiNozzo. Touch me,” Jethro growled in his ear, and Tony released the death grip he hadn’t realized he had on the brick wall behind him.

Unsure of where exactly to put his hands, he lightly skimmed them over Jethro’s shoulders and down his back, hesitating momentarily before resting them on the ass he had been lusting after for the past two years. The growling in his ear grew louder; and deciding he liked the sound, he gripped the hard contours of Jethro’s ass, hoping to leave a physical memento that, for the next several days, would remind Jethro of this very moment.

Starving for air, he finally ripped his mouth free, but just as soon as he was finished refilling his lungs, Jethro’s mouth was attacking his again and stealing the precious air he had just managed to suck in. A groan of pure pleasure caught in his throat, and he thought his knees would buckle when Jethro went in search of the sound with his incredibly agile tongue.

“God, DiNozzo. Do you have any idea how long I’ve wanted to touch you? To kiss you. To—”

Deciding there were more important things to do besides talking, Tony shut Jethro up with a kiss. The silence remained undisturbed for all of five seconds, and then Jethro started making strange needy sounds that sent shivers racing up and down his spine. Thinking Jethro needed a break, he started to ease back on the pressure of the kiss, but the protest that immediately serenaded his ears changed his mind, and he wisely kept right on sucking face with his boss.

Minutes passed as talented fingers tortured his nipples through his shirt, pinching and pulling on the sensitive nubs. The torment was so thorough, he was sure he was going to embarrass himself and come in his pants, something he hadn’t done since high school.

Panting for air, he pushed Jethro back a few inches and stared at the amazing transformation that had taken place on the man’s face. Gone was the cold, calculating look and the perpetual frown of displeasure that seemed permanently fixed there. In its place were sapphire blue eyes blazing with hot desire and a pair of bruised lips, curved in a wicked smile that had him wishing he could exist on kisses alone.

Lifting his hand and cupping the side of Jethro’s face, he gasped when his thumb was captured and hungrily sucked. “Fuck!” he exclaimed.

“My thought exactly,” Jethro replied, licking his lips and gazing at him like he was the dessert they had declined to eat earlier.

Tony immediately felt all the blood in his body take a direct route to his groin. Jethro definitely wanted him, a fact that was being hammered home every time the man brushed up against him. There was no mistaking the hard-on trying to nail him to the wall. Unfortunately, the side alley next to D’Angelo’s was not the place for such activity; and since it seemed that he was surprisingly the only one still able to think with his brain and not his dick, he firmly pushed Jethro further away.

“Boss, I think….”

“You think too damn much, DiNozzo,” Jethro complained. “Come here.”

Struggling to control the need to turn around, face the wall and give his ass to Jethro, he expertly sidestepped the greedy hands reaching for him. A frustrated grumble greeted his maneuver, and the way the sound made his spine turn to jelly almost undermined his resolve, but he held firm and stepped further away.

“Slow down, for god’s sake. I’m not going anywhere.”

After taking a moment to straighten his clothes and wonder when in the hell his pants had become unzipped, Tony fished out his keys and dangled them in front of Jethro’s face. “Boss, as much as I’d love to continue this sweet interlude, I think we should retire somewhere just a tad bit more private.”

His suggestion was reinforced when the side door of the restaurant opened, and Angelo himself came out hauling a garbage bag in one hand. The Italian took a second to appraise the situation and slyly gave Tony the ‘thumb’s up’ sign once he figured out what was going on between the two men.

With cheeks that were no doube glow-in-the-dark red, Tony cautiously returned the acknowledgment with a small wave, and was just about to offer an amusing comment when Jethro grabbed his ass and propelled him past Angelo toward the parking lot. Before he could quiz their hasty exodus, he was sitting in his vehicle with his mouth and his crotch being explored one last time.

“Follow me home,” was the terse command growled in his ear; and because he was once more a little short on air, he could only nod his consent.

After a half hour spent driving in a fog of mind-boggling lust, he found himself pulling into Jethro’s driveway. Five minutes later, he was sprawled naked in a bed with his manhood being consumed by a mouth so blistering hot it was setting fire to every nerve ending in his body.

“Shit! Shit! Shit!”

Tony lifted his head and gazed at the nude man crouched between his legs, his brain threatening an immediate meltdown at the sight of Jethro licking and sucking his dick like someone who was feasting on his last meal. Arching off the bed and pushing his shaft even further down Jethro’s throat, he struggled with the emotions bombarding his heart and mind.

Bewilderment was the main one vying for his attention. He absolutely could not believe he was here in Jethro’s bed, about to be fucked into oblivion. If truth be told, he would have bet the entire DiNozzo fortune, what little there was of it now, on the fact that his boss would never, in a million years, change his mind about getting involved with a fellow agent.

Not that he cared that Jethro had, once again, proved him wrong. He had been fighting his attraction to Jethro from the day he was interviewed for the job. In fact, it was his desire for Jethro that had led to his and Liam’s break-up. The moment Liam had found out he had the hots for the former Marine, he was moving all of his and most of Tony’s stuff out of their apartment and into the penthouse of the bank CEO he had been fucking on the side.

Believing he had mentally cheated on Liam, Tony had suffered with a terrible case of guilt, and it was only with Gerald’s unwavering support that he had finally come to understand that the reason for the break-up was not entirely his fault.

Gerald’s face rose up before him, and he couldn’t help but wonder what his friend would say when he learned of tonight’s developments. No doubt Gerald would not only ask for a detailed description of events but would also request a live feed of any future action.

The vision of Gerald watching him and Jethro fucking robbed him of speech, and he was completely unable to make a sound when slippery fingers probed his ass. The moment a pair of scorching lips nipped the tender area behind his scrotum, his voice returned and returned quite loudly. Soon he was begging for so much more.

“Shit! Oh shit!” He raked his nails across the wide span of Jethro’s shoulders, trying desperately to catch his attention. “Jethro, please. Please, please, please.”

“Say it, DiNozzo.”

A whimper of shocked delight escaped his lips when two fingers breeched his opening and slid deep, grazing his prostrate on each stroke. “Fuck me, Boss. Fuck me hard and long and fast and… just fuck me. Fuck me, **please**.”

Tony felt the bed shift under him, and he looked down the length of his body and for the first time saw the obvious proof of Jethro’s desire for him. The man’s erection was long and thick and dribbling pre-come from its uncircumcised head.

“Damn, you’re big,” he couldn’t help but exclaim with a wide grin on his face.

A husky laugh welcomed his compliment, the sound transforming into a groan when Tony lifted himself up on one elbow and bravely traced the hard flesh that was causing a familiar ache in a certain area of his body. “You **are** gonna let me ride that big boy, right?”

Jethro leaned over him and grabbed a condom wrapper off the dresser beside the bed, managing to suck and bite both of Tony’s nipples on his way back. “Your ass is about to experience the ride of its life, DiNozzo.” Jethro reached out and traced his swollen lips. “And if you’re a good boy, I’ll let these babies enjoy a ride, too.”

“Oh yeah. Fuck my ass, fuck my mouth.”

Tony gripped Jethro’s shoulders and lifted himself off the mattress, plundering the very mouth that was promising him a taste of heaven. “You can do it all, Boss. In fact, why don’t you get started right now? My ass is more than ready to take a ride on the wild side.”

Grabbing his knees and pulling his legs to his chest, he nearly cried out when he felt the head of Jethro’s cock press against his hole. This was it, the moment he had been fantasizing about for months, the moment Jethro would claim him for his own and love him. Tears sprang to his eyes, and he couldn’t resist whispering the words he had wanted so long to share with Jethro.

“I… I love you, Boss.”

Clenching his eyes shut, he held his breath and focused all his senses on the act that would finally make him and Jethro lovers. It wasn’t until his lungs were burning from a lack of oxygen that he realized something was wrong. Jethro was not moving, and upon opening his eyes, he found the man staring at the wall above the bed.

Tilting his head back and to the side, he discovered a picture of a much younger Jethro and two other men dressed in military fatigues, one of whom looked vaguely familiar. Draped over one corner of the frame was what appeared to be a well-worn leather wristband stained with something he couldn’t identify without closer inspection.

Transferring his attention back to Jethro, he glimpsed the agonizing despair shadowing his eyes and realized at once that their moment was over. His suspicions were confirmed when Jethro’s gaze focused on him.

“Get out, DiNozzo. I… I can’t do this. Not now. Not with you.”

The sound of his heart shattering blotted out any further words Jethro spoke to him, and he helplessly watched the man he loved withdraw his touch and stumble from the room.

“What did I do? What did **I** do?”

Strangling the sob that threatened to choke him, Tony curled into a fetal position and buried his face in his hands.

 

+++++++

 

Cheerfully strolling down the hall of the rehab hospital to which Gerald had been transferred the day before, Ducky nodded to the therapist exiting his assistant’s room. “Good evening, Jonas. May I assume you and my young colleague are finished for the night?”

“Gerald cancelled on me, sir.”

Ducky glanced at the door behind the muscular giant who had been assigned to assist Gerald with his physical therapy. “Cancelled?”

“This guy stopped by right before we started his exercises, and Gerald refused to continue with the session.” Tucking his clipboard under his arm, the therapist politely excused himself and walked away.

“Gerald, my boy, how do you expect to recover full mobility of your arm if you do not perform the exercises prescribed by your physician?” Determined to thoroughly chastise his assistant, Ducky pushed open the door and entered the room.

“Oh my. Oh my, my, my.”

Ducky silently observed the two men embracing each other, his keen vision noting the tear tracks on Tony’s cheeks when the younger man shed his jacket and crawled into bed with Gerald. Gerald’s tremulous sigh of welcome and the way his good arm tightened protectively around Tony’s shaking shoulders were his clue to leave. After backing out of the room as quietly as he had entered, he reached inside his jacket and retrieved his cellphone.

“Napoleon, my love, may I please beg your patience and request we reschedule our reunion for later tonight? I believe a dear comrade of mine is in need of my assistance.” An affectionate smile softened his normally sombre features. “Yes, I am indeed looking forward to renewing our relationship.”

Tucking his cellphone away, Ducky took off down the hallway at a brisk pace.

“Jethro,” he muttered to himself. “What **have** you done now?”

 

 +++++++

 

The moment Jethro heard Tony’s vehicle pull out of the driveway, he slammed his fist against the hull of the boat he was building, welcoming the swift flare of pain and hoping against hope that it would obliterate the tortuous ache in his heart.

It didn’t.

With leaden feet, he forced himself to return to the scene of the crime, uncaring of the blood that dripped from his battered knuckles. The only thought his mind was capable of focusing on was that of removing any and all evidence that could possibly remind him of his heart’s folly.

Entering the room, he stood frozen, his gaze riveted on the bed’s tangled sheets, the pillow that still bore the imprint of Tony’s head. Absently, he wondered if it still carried the younger man’s scent, and that single thought triggered the memory of the forbidden taste of passion he had just savoured, the flavour of Tony’s manhood still strong on his tongue.

“Fuck!”

Jethro cursed himself for losing control, for jeopardizing a valued friendship and a well-oiled working relationship. More importantly, he cursed himself for wounding the tender soul of the one person he had grown to love but could never have.

“Damn it! Damn it all to hell.”

He reached for the sheets, desperate to lose himself in the mundane activity of stripping and remaking the bed. He caught sight of his bleeding hand and was mesmerized when a single drop of blood fell from his knuckle and stained the white sheet below. His mind instantly shifted gears, and the bed faded, replaced by the broken body of Tony DiNozzo, his chest and abdomen riddled with bullets and covered in blood.

“ **No**! Never again.”

Jethro ripped off the sheets with a barely controlled violence. The bottom sheet snagged on one corner of the mattress, and with another curse rising to his lips, he yanked hard, the sheet snapping free with such force it caught the edge of the picture frame hanging on the wall above the bed. As if in slow motion, he watched the picture and the familiar leather band fall and hit the brass headboard, the picture teetering precariously before pitching forward and bouncing several times on the mattress below. The last bounce brought the heavy wood frame dangerously close to the edge, and before he could react, it toppled off and hit the floor. The startling sound of shattering glass announced its demise.

Ignoring the sheet he was clenching in one hand, he dropped to his knees and frantically hunted for the leather band that had rolled beneath the bed. The moment his fingers closed around it, he let out a sigh of relief and placed it on his right wrist as he straightened up. Closing his eyes, he blindly traced the intricate design embedded in the leather, the memory of the last time he had touched it adding to the pain already crushing his heart.

“Cam.”

A name was offered to the darkness, and after opening his eyes, Jethro finally discarded the stained sheet he was holding and carefully brushed away the jagged shards of glass that obscured the black and white photograph still seated in the broken frame. He stared unwaveringly at the image of himself and the two men he had given his heart and soul to so many years before.

He focused on the smiling image of William Ryan, his commanding officer during the Gulf War. “I was wrong, Will. Fucking wrong. I should have said no. Should have remembered what happens when you don’t follow the rules. People get hurt. People… people get….”

Lifting the ruined frame off the floor, he clutched it to his chest and choked on the sobs that had been denied for over a decade. “Never. I’ll never forgive myself,” he whispered harshly to the empty room, its silence another stark reminder of just how bleak his present life was.

An unwanted tear fell down his cheek.

“I’m sorry, Cam. I’m so goddamn sorry.”

 


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time to meet the men of Jethro's past.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, this is where I need to remind you this entire story is based on Seasons 1-2. At the time that I wrote this the only info we had on Jethro’s marital history was that he had 3 ex-wives. All details of his marriage to Shannon/their daughter, Kelly/their deaths had not been established – that wasn’t until the end of Season 3. I knew Jethro had served in the First Gulf War, (1990/1991) and utilized that knowledge in this next section. Characters, David Cameron and William Ryan are from the episode, Enigma.

 

**December 1990**

“You have one extraordinarily fine ass, Roy.”

Slipping from beneath the covers, Jethro walked in the direction of the head. He stopped at the door and glanced over his shoulder, whistling appreciatively at the naked form of his current lover sprawled lazily across the bed he had just vacated.

“You should know, Cam,” he told his unit’s newly appointed Executive Officer. “You’ve certainly fucked it enough these past twenty-four hours.” With a smile of sheer hunger taking shape on his face, he continued to lustfully gaze at David Cameron’s amazing physique.

The tall, well-built man lying on the bed rolled onto his back and stretched his arms over his head, gripping the metal frame above him and lifting his upper torso off the mattress in a mock attempt at pull-ups. Jethro stared at the bulging muscles in David’s arms and couldn’t help but lick his lips at the thought of making another certain muscle flex. His lustful appraisal must have caught his lover’s eye, and his grin widened at the sound of David’s easy laughter.

“Don’t let Ryan hear you brag about me fucking you,” David warned. “He seems to think your ass belongs to him and him alone.”

David playfully slapped the butt in question when Jethro rejoined him in bed. “Even though all three of us are in this together, I don’t think he’d take too kindly to the fact that you and I have been foolin’ around without him.”

“Nah.”

With a husky moan, Jethro welcomed the gentle fingers probing his ass. “Will knows how I feel about you, how I feel about him. I doubt he’d begrudge us the little time we spend together, just you and me.” The two of them were enjoying a rare weekend pass. Unfortunately, the missing member of their threesome had been unable to leave the base.

“You’re blind as a bat in love with Ryan if you can’t see how jealous he is of us,” David corrected. His lover of the past five years guided Jethro to his knees, and with practiced ease, slid deep inside his ass.  

Taking advantage of his extra height, David leaned over and nipped the back of his neck, soothing the tiny bite marks with his tongue before nuzzling the one spot that was guaranteed to make Jethro tremble.

“Ryan only puts up with me because of you.”

“That’s not true.” Groaning loudly, he twisted his head to the side and captured David’s mouth, sharing the sound of his hunger when he felt his lover’s hand close around his length. “Will cares about you.”

“Yeah, right.”

David adjusted the angle of his thrusts and chuckled when Jethro hoarsely begged for more. “Ryan cares for me about as much as he cares for that ugly-as-sin bulldog he has chained outside his quarters.”

“Hey! Chops is not ugly.”

Jethro dropped his head and buried his face in the pillow beneath him. “Oh yeah,” he mumbled. “That’s the spot.” Canting his hips back slightly, he nearly brought down the roof with his shout when he felt David’s cock impale him to the max. “Damn it, Cam! Give a guy some warning next time, won’t ya?”

“Sorry, babe.” Panting for air, David transferred both hands to Jethro’s hips and began a hard and furious ride. “Fuck, Roy, you know your ass is the best ever to join the Corp. I simply couldn’t resist getting inside it as fast as possible.”

Jethro reached back and slapped him on the hip. “Have I ever told you you’re full of shit?”

David captured his hand and affectionately squeezed it. “Countless times, but why stop now?”

Jethro was prepared to fire back a sarcastic remark but promptly forgot what he was going to say when David expertly nailed his prostate. Stars danced before his eyes as molten lava raced along his veins and set his entire body on fire. 

“Cam!”

He secretly craved the rough way David was ploughing his ass and wasn’t ashamed of begging for it on a routine basis. David normally loved taking it slow and easy, but every now and then he was able to coax his lover into a fast and brutal coupling that had them both screaming their heads off.

“Come on, Cam. Fuck me. Ride my ass like those wild broncos you used to tame back home.” Clawing at the sheets, he moved his knees further apart so that his lover’s shaft could sink even further inside his ass. “That’s it. Yeah, dear god, that’s perfect.”

Seconds before his imminent release tumbled him into oblivion, he welcomed the arms that wrapped around his sweat-covered chest with a playful nip of his teeth. “Gonna catch me if I fall, Cam?” he murmured huskily. Concentrating on the fingers tugging on his nipples, he almost missed David’s softly whispered words.

“I love you, Roy.”

Unable to speak, he clasped the hands covering his heart and lifted them to his lips, bestowing a tender kiss on the leather band that encircled David’s right wrist. It was a gift he had given his lover their first Christmas together, and carved into its underside were both their names and the date they had committed themselves to each other. David had vowed he would wear it always.

Thought soon gave way to need. Jethro shoved David’s hands down to his weeping erection and frantically rode the strong fingers that tightened around him. His body finally reached the point of no return, and he cried out, a searing heat filling his ass to overflowing as his lover, in that same moment, surrendered to the consuming blaze of their combined passion.

Collapsing on the bed, he welcomed the weight of David’s body as it blanketed his. He coveted this particular moment more than any else, that of being held securely in his lover’s arms. It was a feeling he would give up his life for. David was his soulmate and had freely given him the love he so desperately craved but had been denied all the years he was growing up.

Nature soon separated the two of them, and he couldn’t help but sigh with disappointment when David’s shaft slid out of his body. Pushing David over on his back, he crawled on top of him and began licking and sucking his nipples. “God, I’m gonna miss this.”

David echoed his lament, “Me too, babe.”

Jethro forced away the lassitude that was tempting him into sleep, and smiling tenderly, kissed the Corp tattoo that branded David’s left pec.

His hair was tugged on, and he dutifully obeyed the silent request, lifting his head so that his lover could ravish his mouth with a kiss that left him breathless and moaning. The sound of his passion was swallowed by David’s voracious mouth, and it was several minutes before he was allowed to replenish the oxygen level in his lungs. More than willing to deprive his vital organs again, he moved in for another kiss but found his plan thwarted. He gave in gracefully and permitted David his moment of nurturing, letting the man tuck him close to his body with his head firmly seated beneath his lover’s chin.

“I can’t believe Bush is sending us into combat,” David groused. “Shit! I’ve only got three months left before my stint is up. I sure as hell don’t want to spend it in the Persian Gulf chasing down Saddam Hussein’s ass.”

Jethro shifted his head and pressed a kiss to David’s chin. He knew the real reason for his lover’s vehement protest, and it had nothing to do with following the orders of their Commander-in-Chief.

For the past six months David had been hinting at leaving the Corp. Both of them had put in more than their time and would soon be faced with the decision of re-enlisting. David had no intention of signing up for another tour of duty and had, on more than one occasion, expressed his wish to not only join the private sector but to do so with Jethro at his side as his life-partner. A close friend of David’s, who lived in San Francisco and owned a successful weapons-manufacturing company, had jobs waiting for them the moment they left the Corp.

But that was **before** William Ryan entered the picture.

 

 

**August 1990**

It had been late one night in August when he and David had first come face to face with the person who would completely change all their plans for the future. The two of them were enjoying a three-day pass, and as was their usual MO, had traveled to a safe destination that was as far away as possible from the base where they were stationed.

For this trip they had once again chosen Washington, D.C., and on their first night in the nation’s capital, had decided to visit a favourite club of theirs. On the outside the place looked rundown and on the verge of collapsing, but surprisingly on the inside, it was a plush, richly decorated establishment that catered to the more daring and exhibitionistic set of D.C.’s local gay population .

Ensconced in their usual corner couch, he and David were making out like a house on fire, totally oblivious to the hungry eyes that followed their every move. It wasn’t until a rough, familiar voice inquired softly, “May I join you?” that they came up for air and received the shock of their lives.

Standing before them, with a wry smile of amusement on his face, was their Commanding Officer, William Ryan. He and David instantly snapped to attention, but before they could raise their hands in salute, Ryan caught their arms and pushed them both back down on the couch they had been occupying before his arrival. “At ease, men. Rank holds no privileges here.”

Behind the man came the sound of a polite cough, and Ryan turned. “Thank you,” he murmured to the half-naked youth handing him the snifter of brandy he had ordered at the bar earlier. Savouring a small sip of the aged liquor, the man openly admired the broad shoulders and taut buttocks of the retreating waiter before returning his gaze to Jethro and David.

“May I join you?” Ryan softly repeated his request.

Jethro turned and looked at David and saw the look of panic on his lover’s face. His own heart was about to beat its way out of his chest, not to mention, he was on the verge of hyperventilating. They had been caught red-handed by none other than their Commanding Officer. Their asses were definitely going to prison.

Jethro opened and closed his mouth several times but the words wouldn’t come. He clenched David’s hand and waited for the end of their world.

“Gentlemen.”

Jethro pried his gaze away from the white knuckle grip David had on his hand and looked up. His eyes nearly popped out of his head.

William Ryan, THEIR FUCKING CO, was easing down the zipper of his slacks and providing both him and Cameron with a glimpse of his commando state.

Again, he had no words and obviously from the shock look on David’s face, neither did his lover.

“Ah, Jesus Christ, guys. Really?”

Ryan took a step closer and boldly stroked his stiffening erection. “May I **please** join you?”

Jethro looked at Ryan’s face for a full minute in an attempt to gauge the truth of the situation. Was this a trap? Or was this an honest request from a man who shared the same mindset, had the same desires as he and David?

“Cam?”

“Roy? Are you sure?

The look of desperate hunger on Ryan’s face removed the last of his doubts. With a reassuring squeeze of David’s hand, he slid forward on the couch and eased his hand inside the older man’s open pants.

“Join us, fuck us, bed us, Commander. But know this… we come as a package deal. Where I go, he goes.”

He reached back and gripped David’s arm, pulling him forward. This wasn’t the first time they had invited another man into their bed. Lifting David’s hand to his mouth, he sucked on the man’s fingers before slipping them into the space his own fingers had just occupied inside Ryan’s pants. He quickly pressed his mouth to that of his lover’s and snared the groan David couldn’t hold back upon encountering Ryan’s engorged penis.

After a quick bite of David’s jaw, Jethro stood and stared at the two men before him. The flush of renewed passion lay heavy upon David’s features, and he was overcome with the need to fuck his lover right where he sat. But one glance at Ryan’s face and he immediately put that thought on hold. A gaze that was so hot it threatened to burn the clothes right off his body was trained on his groin, and the second he saw Ryan lick his lips, Jethro forgot all the rules and hurriedly shoved both men toward the section of private rooms located behind the bar.

The door to their room was barely closed before he was attacking his two companions. He devoured David’s moans while stripping off Ryan’s shirt, his hands rushing to experience the dense forest of hair covering his CO’s chest. Tearing off his clothes next, he went back and forth between the two men, his teeth marking bare shoulders, his mouth claiming puckered nipples, his hands measuring the dimensions of the stiff erections poking him in the chest when he knelt on the floor in order to fit both men with condoms.

Finally all three were naked and lying next to each other on the bed. He took top position and guided his sheathed cock inside his lover’s body the moment David was stretched and lubed. His ride of David’s ass soon turned frantic, and to keep from coming prematurely, he halted all movement and turned his attention to the man watching him. Seeing the lust he felt reflected in Ryan’s eyes, he quickly manoeuvred the man onto his hands and knees on the bed and slipped slick fingers inside Ryan’s hole. He treated him to a swift finger-fuck before resuming the wild ride his lover was now begging for with every gasp of breath.

“Fuckme, fuckme, fuckme,” David begged.

Howling loud enough to be heard two states away, David levered himself off the bed and offered him bruising kisses. He brutally twisted and pinched his lover’s nipples while fiercely working the man’s ass. It wasn’t long before their frantic fucking sent David over the edge. His lover screamed as he came, and he immediately swallowed the tortured sound with insatiable kisses. God he loved kissing Cam.

With a growl of hunger, he pulled out of David’s ass, fully prepared to finish their first round of fucking by nailing his CO to the mattress. Ryan, who had patiently been waiting his turn, obviously had other ideas, and Jethro found himself expertly flipped over on his back.

Expert fingers replaced his condom with a new one. He took a moment to check to check on David before offering his mouth to Ryan for a thorough oral examination. His CO then took a tongue tour of his chest and abdomen and Jethro groaned when Ryan’s burning gaze zeroed in on his hairless groin.

Weeks later he would come to learn that it was his shaven genitals that had been the main reason for Ryan openly approaching them. Two months previous Ryan had surprised his unit with a snap inspection, and several soldiers, Jethro included, had been caught in the showers. Ryan confessed he had taken secret delight in the sight of Jethro’s naked body and had jerked off repeatedly while fantasizing about the Marine’s hairless dick and balls.

Jethro nearly came off the bed when Ryan rubbed his stubble-branded cheeks against his groin. His CO’s hungry lips mapped every inch of his crotch not once but twice, and he was close to demanding satisfaction by the time Ryan finally transferred his talented mouth to where it was needed most.

The moment his cock was seated in the blazing confines of Ryan’s throat, he was tugging on David, whimpering uncontrollably until his lover had changed his condom and was in the proper position to feed him his renewed erection. Jethro then redirected his energy into forcing Ryan to move, shifting him so that his ass was close enough for him to reach with his fingers.

It wasn’t long before each of them lost control, and the room became saturated with the humid smell of musk as first Ryan, then David and finally he, himself, spilled their release. The scent of semen joined the mix when condoms were stripped off and added to the pile on the floor seconds before their sweat-covered bodies collapsed into an exhausted heap.

Jethro recovered first and pulled David into his arms, snuggling close to his back and nuzzling the damp hair that lay against the nape of his neck. “Love ya, Cam,” he whispered in his lover’s ear, his voice low and husky and filled with all the tenderness he felt for David.

David rolled over so that he could face him and brushed a finger across his swollen lips, chuckling happily when the finger was treated to a slurpy kiss. “Love you too, Roy.” His lover slid a hand down his body and dipped a wet digit into a territory that had, up until now, remained un-fucked.

“I believe there’s a dry hole in need of filling,” David noted.

“Most definitely, but give me a few to recover first, babe, okay?” He groaned when the tip of David’s finger breeched his ass in a promise of what was to come.

Remembering their companion, he glanced over his shoulder and found Ryan silently watching them, a strange look of longing on his face. Reaching back with his hand, he slapped Ryan’s thigh. “You were fucking awesome, sir. Care to join us the next time we get a pass?”

“I’ve got a better idea,” Ryan said.

The older man collected his hand and sat up. With a mysterious smile on his face, Ryan also took hold of the hand David was using to tease his ass and proceeded to pull both of them toward him. He watched as Ryan first kissed David and couldn’t help but feel a hint of jealous possessiveness take hold of his heart. His thoughts scattered when Ryan took his mouth hostage for much longer than the kiss he had shared with David.

“How ‘bout I join you on a permanent basis?” Ryan suggested. “Three is better than two in my book any day.”

Jethro glanced sideways and saw the stunned look on David’s face. He knew his lover well enough to realize he would have no qualms about getting together with Ryan and enjoying an occasional fuckfest. What he didn’t know was if David would consider making it a permanent deal.

The hand gripping his butt reminded him of another matter he needed to consider. David was damn possessive, even more so than he, himself, and literally pulled no punches when someone was stupid enough to put the moves on him. Yes, David was open-minded when it came to one-night stands with other men, but let one of them show interest in him and it was… _Adios, Amigo_. David considered one Jethro Gibbs his and never hesitated in giving fair warning to anyone who questioned his claim.

He shifted his gaze to Ryan and nearly forgot how to breathe when he saw the naked desire in the man’s emerald-colored eyes. That and the sight of Ryan’s formidable erection decided it for him.

With a smile he knew was blinding, he moved into Ryan’s arms and whispered his answer. A matching smile appeared on his CO’s face, and he couldn’t help but savour it with a kiss.

As the two of them kissed, the hand that had been fondling his ass dropped away. Tearing his mouth from Ryan’s, he quickly twisted to the side and gathered David in his arms, kissing him soundly before tenderly nipping his earlobe. “Can you believe it, Cam?” he whispered. “Ryan’s gay. Our CO is fucking gay.”

David refused to look at him. His gaze was centered on Ryan and the way he was watching the older man was like a lion staring down his next meal. “Babe, he’s our CO,” David warned him.

His lover’s warning never made it to his brain, mainly because his brain had taken up residence in the organ being primed by Ryan’s callused hands. Groaning, Jethro began pumping his hips back and forth while aiming a wicked grin at David.

“Yeah, he’s our CO. How lucky can we get?”

 

 


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jethro relives another memory that made him the man he is today.

**February 1991**

“Get a room, will ya?”

Jethro ignored David’s muttering and, instead, returned Ryan’s fierce hug.

The three of them had just successfully avoided a roving band of Iraqi soldiers that was patrolling the area surrounding the abandoned warehouse they had just ducked inside. The remaining members of their unit were stationed throughout the small town that was two miles south of the Kuwait border, awaiting orders that would send them further inland.

Returning Ryan’s weapon to him, Jethro instructed, “Be careful.” He closed his eyes briefly when Ryan touched a hand to his cheek. “I know you will, but still….”

Ryan gave a tight smile. “I’ll be back as soon as I check on the rest of our squad.” He paused at the doorway to grip David on the shoulder. “Try and keep him out of trouble.”

Grasping Ryan’s hand, David glanced over at him. “It’s an impossible task, but I’ll give it my best shot.”

Ryan took a last look and left. The two of them immediately moved to the shattered windows flanking the door and watched the older man move down the street. Once Ryan was out of sight, David turned toward him and spoke harshly. “Tell me it’s not true, Roy. Tell me you didn’t re-enlist right before we shipped out.”

Jethro knocked back his combat helmet and rubbed the sweat off his forehead before glancing warily at his lover. “Who told you I re-enlisted?”

“Does it matter?” David pulled out his canteen and took a small sip of water. “Damn it, Roy, we had plans.”

Taking a seat on the dirt floor, he checked his supply of ammunition. “No, Cam. **You** had plans. Plans, which I might point out, didn’t include Will.”

“Of course, they **didn’t** include him. I’m fucking not in love with Ryan.”

“Why not? He loves you… has told you so repeatedly.” Jethro closed his eyes and leaned his head against the wall behind him, trying desperately to ignore the headache that was threatening to turn into a full-blown migraine.

“Ryan loves only one of us, and it sure ain’t me,” David vehemently disputed his claim. “Why’d you re-enlist? Can you at least tell me that?”

Jethro held his hand out to his lover and tugged him down to the floor. “I want us to stay together, okay? I thought if I signed up, you’d follow suit, and everything would remain the same.” He fiddled with the leather band on David’s wrist. “I love you, Cam, but I love Will, also. Don’t make me choose between the two of you.”

“You do realize this relationship was doomed from the very beginning? He’s our fucking commander, Roy! The minute the brass get a whiff of what’s going on between us and Ryan, Ryan, **himself** , will be the one transferring our asses to Antarctica or better yet, throw them in jail.”

He grimaced at the death grip David had on his hand. “Ease up, man.”

David merely tightened his hold. “I told you then, and I’ll tell you now… officers are off-limits. Fuck ‘em if you want, but sure as hell don’t love ‘em. You’re only borrowing trouble if you do.”

“You’re wrong, Cam. Will would never turn his back on us.”

“In a New York minute, babe.”

His hand was dropped abruptly when David stumbled to his feet. “Cam?”

“Ryan is military,” David interrupted before moving back to the doorway. “From the top of his balding head to the soles of his size-12 combat boots. He’s getting his rocks off with us, that’s all. Pretty soon, he’s gonna remember who he is and who we are, and it’ll be… ‘Goodbye, boys. Don’t let the door hit your sorry asses on the way out.’ ”

A movement outside the window snagged his lover’s attention, and he turned to investigate. “I know you think you’re in love with Ryan, but I’m telling you, Roy, you need to end this thing. End it before somebody gets hurt.”

Ignoring the order to stay put, he clamoured to his feet and slung his weapon over his shoulder. “I’m going to find Will. Maybe he can talk some sense into you.”

David followed him out the door. “Ryan can talk until he’s blue in the face. It’s not gonna change the fact that he’s our **fucking** **commander**!”

“Would you quit harping on that fact? It’s all I’ve heard for the past month.”

“Heard? I don’t think you’ve heard one single word I’ve said on the subject.” David turned, putting his back to Jethro’s as he checked the street behind them.

“You are so goddamn stubborn.” Jethro rounded the corner of a bombed-out building and walked straight into the arms of the enemy. David’s grunt of pain warned him that the Iraqi soldier holding a gun to his head was not alone.

“Shit!”

Jethro cursed his carelessness, knowing full well it was his lapse in concentration that had placed both of them in harm’s way. Twisting his head ever so slightly to the side, he was able to catch a glimpse of his lover and was dismayed to find David bleeding from what he could only assume was a knife wound to his upper chest. Green eyes filled with pain pleaded with him to remain calm, and it was all he could do to keep from giving into the rage that filled him. Now was not the time for the rash behaviour he normally exhibited. David’s life depended on him, and if that meant sacrificing his own, then so be it.

The two Iraqi soldiers began to bicker back and forth, no doubt fighting over how to divide the spoils once he and David were dead. Listening to the men with one ear, he listened with his other to the laboured breathing of his lover. From the way David was struggling for air, he suspected the man’s lung had been hit by the Iraqi’s knife.

Searching the surrounding area for anything that could possibly aid in their escape, he noticed a flash of light in the distance. Unfortunately, it also caught the attention of his captors; and before he could identify the source, both he and David were forcibly dragged inside the partially collapsed building they were standing next to and shoved into a windowless room after being stripped of all their weapons.

The rough handling only added to David’s distress, but luckily since Jethro had been thrown into the room first, he was able to catch his lover before he hit the floor.

“Hang in there, Cam. No doubt, the cavalry is on its way.” He eased open David’s shirt and fought hard to keep his face neutral when he got a good look at his lover’s injury. The wound was long and jagged, testament to the lethal blade he had glimpsed in the second soldier’s grasp just before being shoved inside.

Ripping off his jacket, he folded a portion of it into a tight bundle and pressed it against the wound. An agonized groan protested his first aid maneuver, and he comforted his lover by tenderly brushing his fingers over David’s cheek, doing so only after verifying his caress would go unobserved by their captors. He sighed with momentary relief when he noted the two soldiers had exited the room.  “Hurts like hell, huh, babe?”

“Un… understatement, Roy.” David reached up a hand and gripped his wrist. “At the—” A cough cut off his words, and it was several seconds before he had the breath to speak again. “First chance you get to escape, you go for it.” David tightened his grip and firmly shook his arm. “You hear me, Roy? Don’t you dare play the fucking hero and get yourself killed trying to save my sorry ass.”

Sliding off his lover’s helmet, he brushed aside the sweat-dampened tendrils of sandy blond hair matted to David’s forehead. “I’m not leaving your sorry ass behind. End of story.”

David transferred a hand to the back of his neck and pulled his head down so that he could whisper in his ear. “God, I love ya.” He then winked at Jethro and grinned. “Even when you’re being a stubborn son of a bitch.”

Jethro forced a smile he didn’t feel and touched his lips to David’s forehead. “When we’re back stateside, I’m gonna tell that kid, Pacci, to tear up my enlistment papers. I told him not to put them through until I returned to base.”

Blood-stained fingers touched his cheek. “What about Ryan? What about—”

“You were right, Cam. It wouldn’t have worked, and I should have known that. The rule is… officers don’t fraternize with the enlisted men, and I should never have agreed with Will’s request to join us. Christ! I’m such a fool sometimes.” He eased back in order to check the wound. “Why you stick with me is anyone’s guess.”

“Maybe ‘cause I like stubborn, smart-ass fools?” His lover groaned upon being shifted. “But what… what about Ryan? You love him. You just said so.”

“I’ll get over it.” On the pretence of checking on the status of their captors, he turned his face away from David’s astute gaze.

“You really need to work on that particular skill, babe. Anyone with half a brain can tell when you’re lying.”

He was ready to deny David’s statement when a small pebble hit him in the head. Looking up toward the ceiling, he discovered Ryan peering down at them through a small hole in the roof—a hole just big enough for an experienced sharpshooter to shoot through. “Speak of the devil.” He lightly touched the side of David’s face. “Cam, look.”

David shifted his gaze in the direction he was pointing. “Well, shit. Looks like the cavalry made it after all.” His chuckle got stuck in his throat and triggered a violent coughing fit, the loud noise bringing both Iraqi soldiers back into the room.

He noted Ryan had ducked out of sight, and he couldn’t help but let out a sigh of relief. The butt of a gun slapping the back of his head drew his attention away from his CO’s hiding place, and he pitched forward, landing squarely on top of his wounded lover. Before he could offer a whispered apology to David, rough hands were grabbing him by the shoulders and shoving him back against the wall. A few seconds later, David sat beside him with fresh blood seeping from his wound.

The two Iraqi soldiers moved to stand in front of them; and from the tone of their voices and the way they were pointing their guns at him and David, he realized their captors had decided it was time for them to die. “Shit! Don’t move, Cam. Will’s here. He’ll take care of these fools.”

He sensed rather than saw David’s gaze slide in his direction, and he hoped his face mirrored the confidence he felt about Ryan’s ability to rescue them. The odds were definitely stacked against them, but Ryan was here, and he had no doubt David would soon be receiving the medical attention he so desperately needed.

Jethro finally shifted his gaze to David and discovered him staring at the ceiling. It didn’t take a genius to figure out what the man was thinking. 

_One against two._

_The man Jethro loved._

Tilting his head down, he harshly whispered, “Cam, whatever you’re thinking, stop. I am not gonna let you play the sacrificial lamb. Cam? Cam, are you listening?”

Glancing to the side, he cursed when he saw the glint of determination in his lover’s eyes. “Cam, by god I’ll—”

“Ryan,” David lowered his head and began to softly speak. “I know you can hear me. Save Jethro. He loves you, and I know you love him.” David took a last look at him before squarely facing the Iraqi soldier standing in front of him. “Ryan, kill the bastard aiming his weapon at Jethro. Do it… **Now**!”

David toppled to the side, and his sudden movement drew the attention of both soldiers. As instructed Ryan shot the Iraqi standing in front of him.

In the space of that brief moment, Jethro watched in horror as blood and brain matter from the Iraqi’s forehead splattered all over him. Ignoring the falling soldier, he instinctively turned to throw himself across David; but before he could move an inch, the remaining Iraqi emptied his gun into David’s chest, and once again, he was bathed in the blood of a dying soldier.

“ **NO!** Noooooooo!”

A second shot rang out, and as he cradled David close to his chest, he saw the remaining Iraqi soldier hit the ground in front of him, an identical wound to that of his comrade’s dead centre in his forehead.

He rocked back and forth, tears spilling unchecked down his cheeks as he whispered to his dying lover. “Don’t you die, Cam. Don’t you **dare** die!” He caught the trembling hand that was attempting to reach for him and held it against his heart. “You **cannot** die. Do you hear me, Cam? We’ve got plans.”

He pressed his lips to the blood-stained band that circled David’s wrist. “San Francisco, remember? We’ll get those jobs George promised us. Find an apartment with a view of the Bay. You’d like that, right?”

Lowering his head to David’s, he crushed his lover’s limp hand against his cheek and struggled to keep the overwhelming sense of fear out of his voice. “I’ll buy you that Jeep you’ve been drooling over, and we can drive to the Grand Canyon and go tramping through the wilderness. Just you and me.”

He blinked back the tears as he offered kiss after kiss to David’s mouth. “Just you and me, Cam. Us. Together. Like we always planned it.”

He saw David’s eye focus on something over his shoulder, and he turned to find Ryan standing guard beside them.

“Time… time for… a… a new plan,” David forced out.

Returning his attention to David, he discovered his lover staring at him with an ethereal smile of love that momentarily lit the man’s drawn, pale features with a startling glow.

Ryan gasped, and the surprised sound caused Jethro to clutch David tighter and cry out, “Cam! Cam, don’t!”

Grateful for the arm that dropped down around his shoulders and embraced him, Jethro spared a glance at Ryan before clasping David’s head to his chest. Hiding his tears in the blond strands of hair clinging to his hand, he pleaded, “Don’t leave us, Cam. Please don’t leave us.”

A final whisper reached his ears.

“Good thing you… you broke the rules, Roy. Now you won’t be alone.”

Jethro felt his world shudder to a complete stop the moment David closed his eyes and took his last breath.

“Roy.”

The sound of his own name hung in the stillness for what seemed like a lifetime. Clinging to David’s lifeless body as hard as he could, Jethro welcomed the icy hand of death when it touched his heart and froze it solid, drying his tears and silencing his cries of despair.

David was wrong. **Dead** wrong.

Breaking the rules wasn’t a good thing.

And he would be **damned** if he ever did it again.

 

 

 

“Jethro! It’s Ducky. Open the door.” The annoying banging became louder. “Jethro, I know you’re in there, and I will not move from this spot until you come and open this door.”

“Leave me the fuck alone, Ducky,” Jethro hoarsely demanded of his unseen friend.

Shaking his head to clear away the memories of that day, he stumbled to his feet and placed the photograph back on the wall, carefully balancing David’s wristband on the top right corner of the broken frame. He then sat down on the bed and collected the pillow Tony had laid his head upon earlier. Clutching it to his chest, he stared for a long time at the image of his dead lover.

“Never again, Cam. I’ll never break the rules again.”

 

 

 


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony needs time away from Jethro.

 

“What’s this, DiNozzo?”

A typed document was tossed on his desk, landing squarely on top of the open file he was studying. Tony recognized the form and signature, and spared it only a cursory glance before plucking it up and handing it back to his supervisor.

“It’s exactly what it says it is, Boss. A request for time off.”

He closed the file he was working on and shut down his computer before pushing away from his desk and standing. Turning his back on Jethro, he collected his jacket and slipped it on, silently congratulating himself for maintaining control over his bruised emotions.

It had been exactly one week since Jethro had thrown him out of his bed. Seven long gruelling days that had been so blessedly busy, he had barely had time to breathe, much less think about his future with Jethro and the agency.

First it had been the date rape case involving a Marine recruit and then the case of the Navy sub and its missing warhead. Finally his desk was clear, and he felt it safe to request a brief leave of absence. He needed time to think—time away from Jethro and the tortured gaze that followed him everywhere.

He looked down at his hands and saw that they were trembling. Shit. He desperately needed to escape Jethro’s presence and knew if he was denied his request for time off that he would simply come unglued. It was getting harder and harder to maintain control, to maintain the façade that everything was well and good in his world.

 

 

_The first day back at work after the incident had been the hardest. He had approached Jethro in private, calling him into an empty office._

_“Talk to me, Gibbs. Tell me what went wrong? Was it me? Say something, damn it! Was it **me**?” He reached out and clasped Jethro on the arm, wanting nothing more than an explanation for the man’s heartless behaviour. The older man didn’t move a muscle, but the look in his eyes had him snatching his hand away as if it were burned._

_Moving a few steps back, he stared silently at Jethro, his mind in total chaos. When it became apparent Jethro wasn’t going to offer any sort of explanation, he said softly, “I don’t doubt that all of this is my fault, but if you won’t talk to me, won’t tell me what I did wrong, then I can’t fix it. And I **want** to fix it, Boss. I really do.”_

_Looking up from the button on Jethro’s shirt he had been addressing, Tony could have sworn he saw tears in the other man’s eyes. “Jethro? **Please** talk to me.”_

_Several more minutes passed as he continued to plead with Jethro, and he finally let out a ragged sigh of disappointment when Jethro turned from him to stare stoically out the office’s nearest window. Shrugging his shoulders in defeat, he headed for the door and was halfway there when he heard Jethro speak._

_“It wasn’t you, Tony. It wasn’t your fault.”_

_Stunned by the admission, he was still processing what his boss had said when Jethro came up behind him and very gently brushed a hand down his back._

_“Romance between agents, DiNozzo, it never works.”_

_Blinded by a sudden rush of anger, he twisted around and glared at Jethro. “Bullshit! This has nothing to do with the two of us being agents!” he yelled. Daring it all, he grabbed Jethro by the arms. “Something’s got you running scared, and I sure as hell would like to know what it is. We’ve worked together for two years now, and I’ve **never** seen you scared. Not one fucking time.”_

_Tony felt his control slipping away, and he forced himself to step back and take a deep breath. Releasing Jethro’s arms, he shifted his hands upward and tenderly cupped the sides of the man’s face. “What are you scared of? Why are you fighting this thing between us?” He swiped a thumb across Jethro’s bottom lip. “God, I love you, Roy. Don’t you know that by now?”_

_He gasped at the change that came over Jethro the moment his declaration of love was uttered. The man’s blue eyes crystallized into hard chips of ice, his lips thinning into an unforgiving line as his nostrils flared in anger. Cruel fingers bit into his forearms and forced his hands down to his side._

_“I am your supervisor, and you will **never** touch me like that again. Do you understand?”_

_Hurt beyond measure and totally bewildered, Tony could only nod his head and rub his arms, knowing full well he would wake in the morning to find his skin branded with the imprint of Jethro’s hands. “Boss, I—”_

_“Do you understand, DiNozzo?”_

_A momentary twinge of fear travelled down the length of his spine to his feet and guided him away from Jethro. “Yes, I understand.”_

_“Don’t make me repeat myself again.” Jethro turned on his heel and marched toward the door, hesitating the span of a heartbeat before throwing the door open and exiting the room._

_It was nearly two hours later before he could pull himself together enough to leave the empty office, and he couldn’t help but collapse in his chair with relief when Kate informed him that Jethro had left for the day. It was at that moment that he realized he needed time off—time off to deal with the pain that was crushing his heart to death._

 

A collection of origami animals, courtesy of Gerald, caught his attention and a shaky smile briefly quirked his lips.

Both Gerald and Ducky had been his personal saviours during the past week. He had imposed himself upon both of his friends, spending countless hours with Ducky down in the autopsy room and with Gerald at the rehab facility.

_Gerald._

_Time to get moving._

He looked at his watch before turning and facing Jethro. “Are you gonna let me have the time off I asked for?”

“DiNozzo, I don’t think—”

His voice dangerously soft, Tony stepped into Jethro’s personal space and said, “You either let me go for the week, or you let me go permanently.” Flicking an imaginary piece of lint off the older man’s shoulder, he shifted forward and whispered in his ear. “It’s your choice, Boss; but if I was you, I’d dig out that dusty rubber stamp you’ve got hidden somewhere in that desk of yours and authorize my request.”

“Are you threatening me, DiNozzo?” Jethro brushed aside his hand and stepped away.

“Am I, Boss? Threatening you, I mean.” He followed after his supervisor, never giving an inch. “Are you going to approve my request? I need to know now.” Clenching his fists, he finally allowed Jethro room to breathe. “Not tomorrow. Now.”

They stared at each other for several minutes, each of them examining the other’s face for a clue to their thoughts. Finally, with a nod of his head, Jethro conceded.

“One week, DiNozzo. I’ll give you one week.”

He offered Jethro a tight smile, praying the pain swamping his heart was not reflected in his eyes. “That’s all I asked for, Boss. One week.”

One week to forget a love he had hoped would be his forever.

 

 

 

“Maybe Kate’ll switch parking spots with me.”

Tony stared at the midnight blue SUV parked next to his Corvette. It was Jethro’s vehicle, and up until that moment, he had never given much thought to the fact that they parked next to each other. Now that he had been kicked out on his ass by Jethro, not once but twice, he couldn’t help but smirk at the irony of the situation.

“The fates sure have it in for me.”

“I doubt that’s entirely true, my boy.”

Tony glanced over his shoulder and found Ducky standing behind him. “It sure feels like it, Ducky. Sure as **hell** feels like it.”

Rubbing the back of his neck, he sighed in disgust when his gaze automatically returned to the SUV. “I’m not certain what’s going on with Gibbs, but I can tell you this… the man sure has it in for me. He’s killing me, Ducky. Literally killing me.”

“I also doubt that _that’s_ true, but if so, can I ask if you have heard of the old saying, a bird in the hand is worth two in the bush?” Ducky gripped his shoulder and guided him away from Jethro’s vehicle. “Have you spared any thought to the gentle soul you’ve been holding in your hand for months now? Its value is far greater than the unattainable hawk you keep setting your sights on.”

Since his dear momma didn’t raise him to be a fool, he immediately knew the person Ducky was referring to. “When did Cupid hire you as his assistant?”

Ducky turned and clasped him by the arms as he closely examined his face. “As much as Jethro may care for you, and yes, maybe even love you, he will never commit to a relationship with you.”

Tony opened his mouth to jokingly protest, but shut it when he saw the look on Ducky’s face. In fact, because the ME’s advice came without one of his usual long-winded stories, he knew Ducky was being absolutely serious. “It doesn’t matter to me if Gibbs can’t commit.”

Ducky lifted a hand and tapped him affectionately on the cheek. “Yes, it does matter; and if you’d look deep within your heart, you’d admit to yourself that I’m telling the truth.”

Tony pulled away and took shelter behind the nearest concrete support column, leaning against it as if it was the only thing holding him up. “I know what you’re saying is true. I just don’t understand **why** it’s true.” He slammed his fist against the hard concrete, welcoming the pain that flared briefly in his hand. He knew Ducky was telling him his love for Jethro was hopeless, had no future. But why? Why couldn’t Jethro love him or commit to a relationship with him? Why?

Hearing Ducky call hello to someone, he stepped from behind the column and saw that it was Jethro approaching them. The instant Jethro caught sight of him, he uncharacteristically stumbled. Before Tony could move or say a word, the man straightened, turned around and walked back the way he had come. That one simple act drove home the truth of Jethro’s rejection more than anything else that had passed between them in the previous week. The man simply did not want him in his life. End of story.

“Oh god,” he gasped aloud as he dropped his backpack and doubled over in pain. He could hear Ducky whispering soothing words in his ear, but they meant nothing to him. All his mind could focus on was the look of utter dismissal on Jethro’s face. Finally, one word penetrated the cloud that was obscuring his thoughts.

“Gerald.”

He forced his mind in a different direction and desperately hoped his heart would follow suit. It was time to move on. Time to let go.

“… time for your daily visit to our young colleague, is it not?”

Ducky’s voice grew louder, and he instinctively latched onto the hand pulling him to his feet. Ducky was right. It was time. Time to go to Gerald.

Gerald needed him.

Gerald wanted him.

Gerald….

He straightened, and, with an apologetic smile on his face, let go of Ducky’s arms. Collecting his backpack, he walked over to his car and opened the door. “I better get going. Got a thousand things to do this evening.”

“You have the keys I gave you earlier?”

Refusing to become trapped by the concerned eyes searching his face, he busied himself with throwing his backpack inside the car. As soon as he was finished with that task, he patted his front shirt pocket, and the answering jingle of keys provided Ducky with his answer.

“Gerald said to make sure you tell Mr. Solo thanks for letting us use his cabin.” He glanced sideways as he climbed inside his car. “You sure he’s okay with us kicking him out of his summer home for the week?”

“Napoleon is quite delighted that you and Gerald have taken him up on his offer. And please do not worry about him being homeless. He’s made arrangements to spend time with a very old acquaintance of his.”

“If you say so.” Leaning forward to wipe away a smudge of dirt off the rear-view mirror, he caught sight of the secretive look that came over Ducky's face. He was fully prepared to interrogate the older man about the mysterious Mr. Solo when he remembered the list of tasks still to be dealt with.

His first thought was of Gerald and the welcoming smile and hug his friend greeted him with every time he visited. Suddenly, for the first time in weeks, he felt a feeling of peace settle cautiously upon his heart. That smile and hug were waiting for him right now, offered no matter what screw-ups he may have committed during the day. That was Gerald for you.

His friend.

A friend who understood him and cared for him unconditionally.

Maybe, just maybe—

He repositioned the safety belt across his chest then yelled out his goodbye to Ducky before starting up the Corvette’s engine. “Later, gator!” With a final wave of his hand, he sped out of the parking garage.

 

 

 


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A stranger points Tony in a different direction.

 

“I’ll come and tuck you in bed as soon as I finish here,” Tony instructed Gerald. He pointed him in the direction of the volunteer waiting near the door. “Jonas has a few more exercises he wants to review with me.”

“Exercises. Yeah, right.” Gerald mopped the sweat from his face. “What you really mean is that he’s going to show you new ways to torture me while we’re on vacation.” Rubbing the muscles that trembled visibly in his left arm, Gerald glared at his physical therapist. “The man’s a sadistic bastard.”

It had been a long haul but finally Gerald was ready to go home. He could have been discharged directly from the hospital one week ago with a physical therapist visiting him at his apartment but Ducky had decided on a different course. To his way of thinking his young assistant required a more thorough regime of rehab and had insisted Gerald be admitted to one of the city’s finest rehab facilities. It went without saying that whatever Dr. Donald Mallard wants, Dr. Donald Mallard gets.

“You know you love it, all that pain and sweat.” Tony laughed as he dropped an affectionate kiss on his friend’s left shoulder. Gerald continued to glare at his therapist which lonely made Tony laugh again. If looks could kill, Jonas would soon be pushing up daisies.

“Be honest. It makes you downright horny, right?” Turning away, he wisely ignored Gerald’s beseeching look and his mumbled ‘hopeless and horny.’

“Now, now, don’t keep your beautiful escort waiting.” Placing a hand low on Gerald’s back, he walked his friend toward the blushing volunteer waiting patiently to escort Gerald back to his room. “He’s all yours, sweet lady.”

Smiling, Tony watched the pair until they turned the corner and disappeared from sight. His grin grew wider at the sound of girlish giggles, and he shook his head in amazement. Gerald was such a flirt; and unless he misread the laughter echoing down the hall, it seemed another name would soon be added to Gerald’s list of conquests.

He strolled back to where Jonas was waiting. On the way he scooped up Gerald’s discarded towel and expertly tossed it in the soiled linen basket several feet to the left. When he finally turned his full attention to the burly physical therapist, he discovered Jonas staring at him intently. “What? Is my fly open?” He quickly checked his zipper, and when he glanced back up, found a pair of hazel eyes still fixed upon him. “What? What is it?”

“Tell me you aren’t that clueless, are ya?”

“About physical therapy? Yeah.”

He plopped down on the exercise mat spread across the floor and stretched out his long legs. “But then, that’s why I’m here… so you can teach me how to help Gerald with his exercises.”

“I’m not talking about exercises, and you damn well know it.”

Tony caught the small rubber ball thrown at him and tossed it straight back. “Why don’t you enlighten me.” Not that he actually needed to be enlightened. He knew exactly what—or should he say _whom_ —Jonas was talking about.

It seemed Gerald was destined to be the topic of conversation no matter where he went that day. First it was Abby at lunch, and then it was the grey-haired grand­mother who volunteered at the nurses’ station answering the phone. She had stopped him on his way in, asking him what his inten­tions were in regards to that ‘sweet boy’ down in room 372. And now, here was Jonas taking up Gerald’s cause, so to speak.

“I’m waiting,” he reminded the therapist when the man didn’t immediately answer him.

Jonas leaned forward and rested his arms on top of his bent knees, pinning him with a curious stare. “That’s just it. **Why** are you waiting? That man is completely in love with you. In fact, he talks about you incessantly… to just about anyone who’ll listen to him.” Jonas tossed him the exercise ball again. “Dude, he’s got it bad for you, and I mean **bad**.”

Tony thought of the pair of steely blue eyes that had pierced his heart earlier and whispered softly, more so to himself than to the therapist, “He’s not the only one.”

A hand gripped his shoulder, and Tony looked up to find Jonas towering over him. “So when are ya gonna make your move? This vacation you’re going on would be the perfect time to pop the question or whatever it is you guys do to make it official.”

Tony suddenly found the laces of his shoes extremely interesting. Was that what Gerald was expecting? A proposal, a commitment from him? He tied and retied the laces on his left shoe a number of times. “Thanks for the advice. I’ll keep it in mind.”

Jonas squatted back down beside him and stilled his restless hands. “I’m not trying to stick my nose in your business, dude, but I’ve been down this road before, and when love slaps you square in the face, you better pay attention, ‘cause you never know what tricks Fate’ll play on you tomorrow.”

He thought of Pacci and how the agent’s sudden and tragic death had made his new bride a grieving widow in the blink of an eye. Jonas was right. Fate could, indeed, play cruel tricks upon the unsuspecting.

Jonas bounded to his feet. “Time to get crackin’ if you want to see your man before visiting hours are over.”

Tony tucked away the therapist’s advice in the same corner of his mind he had placed Ducky’s. Now was not the time to contemplate his future, whether it be with Gerald or with Jethro. He was here to learn how to help Gerald with his therapy, and everything else would have to wait until later… way later.

 

 

 

“I’ll be by to pick you up as soon as I finish work tomorrow. Is there anything special you need me to get at the store or from your apartment?” After handing Gerald the book he was currently reading, Tony reached behind him and fluffed his pillows to the perfect thickness. “I can stop by on my way home.”

Letting out an exhausted sigh, Gerald sank back into his pillows. “Nah. You’ve done enough already.”

“You sure, G-man? It’d be no problem.”

He found himself fulfilling the promise he had made to Gerald earlier, tucking the sheet and blanket more securely around the man’s lower torso. For some reason he was wary of making eye contact with his friend, afraid of what he might see reflected in those expressive brown eyes. “If ya think of something, just give me a call at work, and I can swing by wherever; or if I can’t, I’m sure I could persuade Ducky to do so.”

Gerald’s hand captured his in a gentle grip, causing him to look up. The shield around his heart crumbled when he saw the genuine look of concern in his friend’s eyes.

“You okay, Slick? Is something bothering you?”

He heard the unspoken words ‘or someone’ that Gerald didn’t include in his question, and he hid his face in the hand that lifted to his head and cupped his left cheek. Unwilling for the first time in their relationship to share his emotional turmoil, he kept his silence.

How to proceed with his personal life—give up on Jethro, pursue Jethro, or make a life with Gerald, instead—that was his decision and his decision alone to make. And in no way did he want Gerald to think he was settling for second best. If he chose to spend his life with him, he wanted to do so with­out Jethro’s shadow between them, and that was the real reason he wanted to make the decision on his own. It **had** to be his to make.

“Tony?”

Gentle fingers traced the worry lines creasing his brow, and he kissed each one of them tenderly before pulling away and collecting his backpack from where he had stashed it earlier by the window. “I’m okay. Just tired. It’s been a hell of a week.”

Fighting back a sudden onslaught of emotion, he concen­trated on straightening the straps of his backpack, but lost the battle when Gerald slipped silently from his bed. His friend stood behind him with his right arm wrapped tightly around his shoulders. A single tear escaped down his cheek, and Tonly quickly obliterated the evi­dence of his vulnerability by wiping his face on the sleeve of Gerald’s long sleeve t-shirt. “I’m okay. Really.”

“You know I’m here for you, Slick. If there’s anything you need, anything you wanna talk about….” Leaving his offer open-ended, Gerald let his actions do the talking for him by dropping a hand to rest over his heart and lightly kissing the back of his neck. “You’re my best friend, Anthony DiNozzo, and there’s nothing I won’t do for you.”

 _Can you heal this hole in my heart?_ Tony wanted to ask. _Is your love strong enough for the both of us? Will you still be my friend if I decide it’s Jethro I want?_

Tipping his head to the side so that it rested against Gerald’s, he stared out the window at the full moon and pondered which road he should take.

 

 

 

Several wolf whistles, both male and female, greeted his arrival at the rehab hospital the next day, and Tony twirled for the benefit of those standing at the nurses’ station closest to Gerald’s room.

He knew he was late, but it couldn’t be helped. Jethro had kept the entire team late, and the second work was finished, he had rushed home and loaded both his and Gerald’s gear into the Toyota RAV4 he had rented for their vacation. Following a quick shower and change of clothes, he was back on the highway and speeding toward the rehab facility.

Slipping off his aviator sunshades, he gave his fans one last look at the black denim jeans and sleeveless tee-shirt he wore. The jeans not only hugged his long legs but also showcased his tight ass, and the cotton tee-shirt was so tight it appeared to have been painted on his torso. He knew he looked hot and was more than happy to show off his goods.

“You may applaud if you wish,” he jokingly encouraged his admirers.

He had almost finished his stroll down the hospital ‘runway’ when an extremely loud whistle serenaded his ears. Curious to see which staff member was the most vocal in their appreciation, he turned and was caught totally off guard to find Gerald standing right outside the door to his room.

“G-man!!”

Gerald pushed away from the wall he’d been leaning against and whistled once more, but this time the appreciative sound was quieter and more intimate, and Tony felt a shiver of lust travel straight down his spine and settle in his groin.

With a nod of his head, Gerald indicated the two teenage nurses’ assistants who appeared ready to pounce should Tony give them the slightest indication he was interested. “Maybe we should step inside my room so that you can autograph my sling.”

He followed Gerald into his room and slapped his hand against the door once it was closed. A tray of untouched food sat on the nearby overbed table, reminding him of the bags of groceries he’d left sitting on his kitchen table. “Crap!” He couldn’t believe he had forgotten something so important, but then again with all the shit Jethro had dumped on him these past few days, it was a wonder he could remember his own name. If he could just shut his heart off and start fresh with Gerald…

He took a closer look at his friend. Why couldn’t he do that? Start fresh with Gerald? Forget Jethro and— “Huh?” He realized Gerald was talking to him. “You said something?”

“I asked you what’s wrong.” Gerald sat down on the edge of his bed and held out the new sling his doctor had requested he wear upon leaving. “How ‘bout a little help here, Slick?”

Tony stepped up, and after slipping between Gerald’s outstretched legs, expertly fitted the somewhat complicated sling in place. “How’s that? Not too tight, is it?”

Gerald, whose gaze never wavered from his face, smiled and answered softly, “Perfect.”

A slight blush warmed his cheeks as he gave a final tug on the sling’s strap. He knew Gerald’s description of perfect had nothing to do with the way he had put on the darn sling, and shying away from the compliment, he rushed to explain the serious error he had committed.

“Hope you don’t mind delaying your departure about an hour. My brain’s been on the fritz since my run-in with Gibbs yesterday, and like the idiot I am, I forgot the groceries I bought at home.”

He fingered the collar of Gerald’s shirt. “Don’t know where my mind was ‘cause they were sitting right there in the kitchen, right in plain view and I just went off and—.”

“What happened with Gibbs?” Gerald interrupted.

“Huh?”

Gerald gripped his restless hand and repeated the question. “What happened with Gibbs yesterday?”

Staring at the color contrast of their skin, Tony cleared his throat and tried to dislodge the lump that had suddenly gotten stuck there. “It was nothing, really. Just Gibbs giving me a hard time about my request for time off.” Gnawing on his bottom lip, he waited for the next question, knowing full well Gerald could hear the raw pain in his voice.

Gerald let go of the hand he was holding and curved a finger inside one of his belt loops so that he could coax him to move closer. “Quit bullshitting me, Slick. What really happened?”

He stepped nearer to Gerald and acknowledged the arm that slipped around his waist with a smile. “I was out in the parking garage talking to Ducky when Gibbs appeared. The minute he saw it was me with the Duckman, he wasted no time in heading back the way he’d come. And the look he gave me… shit, Gerald! You would have thought he was looking at the bastard who shot you in the shoulder. His eyes were so cold and hard.” He glanced up at the ceiling, needing a brief respite from the troubled gaze trained on him. “Ducky was so right. Fuck!”

Gerald slipped his hand beneath his tee and began to stroke his lower back in a soothing circular motion. “What was Ducky right about?”

“He told me I was wasting my time on Gibbs. Said I should go after a more attainable goal.”

He lowered his gaze to Gerald’s face, and for the first time in their relationship noticed how damn kissable the man’s lips looked. How would Gerald react if he went with his gut feel­ing and kissed him? Shit! How would **he** react if he kissed his best friend? Maybe it was time to find out? Time to see how true love tasted when offered by a mouth that had never wounded him with cruel words.

Gerald slid a hand over to his right hip and caressed it suggestively. “Would you? Go after a more attainable goal, I mean?”

“Guess that depends on just how **attainable** that goal is.”

Surprised at the way his body was reacting to Gerald’s touch, he moaned softly when his tight jeans suddenly turned constrictive. Another glance at Gerald’s face and he decided to take the plunge or to at least, if nothing else, take a test drive. Or should that be a test kiss?

“I’d say your goal is **definitely** attainable,” Gerald mur­mured.

The hand that was stroking his hip lowered to his outer thigh and began to tease its length.

Tony lightly gripped the back of Gerald’s neck, and after placing his thumb beneath the man’s chin, tilted his head back. “Let’s test your theory, shall we?” Lowering his head, he gently touched his lips to Gerald’s in a kiss that promised more than just friendship.

Even after the kiss had ended, Gerald’s lips still clung to his, and he had to forcibly pull away from him. He was stun­ned by the violent reaction that had surged through his system, and none of the kisses in his past—not even Jethro’s kisses—had prepared him for the intense feelings that were threatening to overwhelm him. “Holy Shit!”

Gerald’s smile was blinding. “Guess your reaction just proved my theory.”

Unwilling to see Gerald as a stand-in for Jethro, he strongly admonished himself. _Take it slow, you idiot. Damn slow. Gerald’s your friend, and he deserves to be treated as such._

Deathly afraid he wouldn’t heed his own advice, especially if Gerald kept looking at him like he was a two-inch-thick Porterhouse steak, he made a quick decision and placed himself out of reach. Walking over to the window, he glanced down at the parking lot and was immediately reminded of his current predicament.

“Think you can find something to keep yourself busy while I go get those groceries?” he asked. Receiving no answer, he was about to turn around when a muscular arm slid around his waist and hugged him tight.

“I’m not staying here another minute. I’ll go with you,” Gerald informed him.

“You sure you’re up to it? It’s three hours to the cabin. Going back for those groceries will add at least another hour. You sure your shoulder’s ready for the long drive?

“I’m more than ready, Slick. Been ready.”

Tony looked down at the arm around his middle, and relished the feeling of being held by the one who had some­how slipped under his shields and inside his heart.

“Well then, let’s get this show on the road.”

 

 

 

“Damn it, Gerald Jackson! Were you trying to get us killed?”

Tony stumbled out of the rented SUV and popped the top button on his jeans, desperate to give his very sizeable erection room to breathe.

“Didn’t exactly hear you complaining, Agent DiNozzo.”

His friend remained sitting inside the vehicle, the smile on his face growing wickeder by the minute as he appraised his flushed features.

“Correct me if I’m wrong,” Gerald bragged, “but I do believe I heard someone groaning when we were stopped at that last red light.”

“For god’s sake, you had your hand between my legs. How else did you want me to react?”

“I was just checking the merchandise,” Gerald answered cheerily as he carefully eased out of the vehicle.

His friend slowly approached him, and once he got within touching distance, calmly placed a hand over his crotch.

“Checking the merchandise?” Tony grimaced when he heard how shaky his voice sounded. Hell, you’d think he had never been groped by another guy before. “Well? How was it?”

“Perfect,” Gerald answered with a bold grin. Chuckling softly, he shifted the hand around to his ass and squeezed it hard before swooping in for a quick kiss. “You have no idea how long I’ve waited to do that. You and that sexy bod of yours have been driving me insane from day one, and I thought it wouldn’t hurt to show you **just** how interested I am.”

His friend’s boldness was blowing his mind away. Never in the two years they’d known each other had Gerald acted in such a manner, and he wasn’t quite sure he knew how to deal with the new and improved Gerald. Therefore, until his brain could catch up with the truth, he did what he always did when faced with a problem he couldn’t quite handle—he cracked a joke.

“You’re an alien, right? Switched bodies with the real Gerald when we stopped at that gas station and I went to the bathroom?” He breathed a sigh of relief when Gerald laughed and moved a respectable distance away.

“Just be thankful I didn’t follow you into the men’s rest­room. I may be a one-arm bandit, but that doesn’t mean I can’t make use of my other talents.”

He closed his eyes against the sight of Gerald licking his lips. He knew exactly what talent Gerald was referring to, and the thought of his friend going down on him was definitely **not** a part of his ‘take it damn slow’ plan.

He fished the keys to the cabin out of his pocket and tossed them to Gerald. “Why don’t you go on ahead and I’ll start hauling in our stuff.”

The second Gerald was out of sight, he leaned against the SUV and shook his head in utter confusion. This was definitely turning out to be the most difficult week of his life. First Jethro had ripped his heart out and shut him down cold, and now Gerald was trying to set him on fire and want­ing a little too much too soon.

The important question he now needed to ask himself was what exactly did he, Anthony DiNozzo, want?

He looked up through the branches of the trees at the clear blue sky above him and whispered his plea. “I want what any man wants, whether he’s gay or straight… I want to find love and be loved. Think you can manage that, oh guardian angel of mine?”

“If he can’t, I know **I** can.”

A familiar arm circled around his shoulders while warm lips pressed against the side of his neck. “Gerald,” he whis­pered as he lowered his head to the side and rested his cheek on the arm holding him.

No other words passed between them, and Tony sought refuge in the silence. His thoughts and emotions were in chaos; and as much as he would like to pursue a relationship with Gerald, he first needed to be absolutely sure about his feelings. Jethro had taught him the lesson of heartbreak, and it was not a lesson he wanted to pass on to the one holding him.

Gerald deserved more.

Gerald deserved what he, himself, wanted.

They **both** deserved love.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Major appreciation for all the comments!


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gerald finally has his say about things.

 

“I can’t believe you did all of this for me. Shit, we’re only gonna be here for a week. As soon as our vacation is over, you’ll just have to haul it all back to my place.”

Gerald swept his good arm around the large, airy room that encompassed both kitchen and living area. He indicated his collection of mystery books scattered across the coffee table, his mini stereo set and CDs tucked in the bookcase, plus the glass tank sitting on the butcher’s block in the kitchen.

“You even remembered to bring my favorite pillow from home.” Gerald picked up the large goose feather pillow that was lying on the couch and hugged it to his body. “I don’t even want to know how you got that thing in here.” Tossing his pillow back on the couch, Gerald nodded at the brand new exercise machine sitting in the far corner of the cabin.

Tony dumped their duffle bags on the floor and took a seat in the over-sized rocking chair next to the couch. “That monstrosity is courtesy of Mr. Solo. He and Ducky decided our vacation would be better spent if we didn’t have to go back and forth to town every day to work out at the gym. And I’ll have you know, Jonas slapped his seal of approval on it.”

“Great!”

Gerald walked into the kitchen and poured himself a glass of water. “Remind me to pick up a bottle of wine or something for Mr. Solo when we go back into town… give it as a thank-you gift for letting us use his cabin and all.”

Pausing to tap on the side of the tank and whistle at his pet baby iguana, Gerald finished drinking his water and moved back into the spacious living area, claiming the corner of the couch nearest to Tony. “Uh, Slick, did you notice… ummm….” He glanced over his shoulder at the door leading to the bedroom.

Covering his yawn with a hand, Tony tilted his head back and set the rocking chair in motion once he closed his eyes. It had been a very long and extremely busy day. Jethro had had the team pounding the pavement way before the crack of dawn, and except for the short time spent doing paperwork, he had been moving at warp speed for the past twelve hours. The stress of not being able to solve their current case, hampered by the strained relationship between him and Jethro, was starting to take its toll on him.

“Did I notice what?” he yawned again and stretched his arms over his head.

“Did you notice there was only one bed?”

Grinning, he cracked one eye open and glanced over at Gerald. “Yeah, I noticed, but don’t worry. That couch you’re sitting on pulls out into a pretty decent bed according to Mr. Solo, and I’m sure I’ll sleep just fine on it.”

“Is that so?”

He opened both eyes when he felt Gerald’s hand caress his right knee. “Yyyyeeesss?” The hand on his knee moved to his thigh as Gerald moved closer.

“You don’t have to make do with the couch. I’d be more than happy to share that king-sized bed in there with you.”

He captured the hand that was trying to wander further up his leg. “I appreciate the offer, but I think for right now it would be better if I slept out here.”

Moving to sit on the coffee table positioned in front of the couch, he tugged on Gerald’s hand and brought him close enough for their knees to touch. “It’s not that I don’t want to sleep with you, G-man. I do. I really do.

With a wistful smile on his face, he lifted his hand and gently brushed his fingers over the curve of Gerald’s cheek. His words were true—he did want to spend each night of their week together snuggled close to Gerald; and to be honest, it had been a long time since he had trusted someone enough to sleep with them. For him, falling asleep in another man’s arms was very special and very meaningful, and if he did, indeed, commit himself to sleeping with Gerald, he wanted to be sure it was done without Jethro’s ghost hovering over them.

“I feel we need to take things slow this week.” He clasped Gerald’s hand with both of his. “Take our time with these new feelings we’re experiencing for each other.” Leaning forward he shared a tender kiss with Gerald and smiled when his friend moaned and tried to follow after him once the kiss was over.

“When, and please note I said ‘ **when** ’ and not ‘ **if** ’… when the two of us crawl into that bed together and make love for the first time, I want you to know that my heart is one hundred percent dedicated to you. I don’t want you thinking I’m using you as a substitute for someone else.”

Concerned by the ensuing silence, he searched Gerald’s face before giving his hand a gentle squeeze. “Is that okay with you? Can you wait until I get my head screwed on straight?”

“Uh, Slick?” Gerald pulled his hand free and sat back on the couch. “I was only asking if you wanted to sleep **in** the bed, not sleep **with** me.”

“Huh?”

With his mouth hanging open, he couldn’t help but stare at Gerald. Had he misread all the signals? Surely Gerald wanted to make love with him. Shit, his crotch was still tingling from the groping it had received earlier. Didn’t that alone mean…?

“Got’cha!”

Laughter filled the room as Gerald fist-bumped his chin and snapped his mouth shut. Again he found himself staring at his friend, who was now collapsed down on his right side laughing his guts out.

“Why you!”

Shoving off the coffee table, he fell to his knees in front of the couch and tried his best to tickle Gerald to death. “You low-down son of a bitch!” With his laughter joining that of his friend’s, he searched out every ticklish spot on Gerald’s body and didn’t cease extracting his revenge until the word ‘Uncle’ had been yelled out.

Gathering his gasping companion in his arms, he sat down on the couch and waited until both of them had caught their breath. “All joking aside, G-man, okay? Do you think we could take things slow this week?” He nuzzled Gerald’s left shoulder, pressing a kiss to the healing joint while waiting for an answer.

The answer came in the form of a long, lingering melding of their mouths, and this time it was he, himself, who offered up a very vocal appreciation of the kiss.

Out of breath again, he asked with a chuckle, “Was that a ‘yes’ or a ‘no’?” He wrapped his arms more tightly around Gerald before stretching out his legs and placing his feet on the coffee table.

Gerald followed suit with his long legs. “Yes. That was a definite ‘yes’.”

A hand was placed over his heart and he looked up to find a serious look on his friend’s face.

“If it means you in that bed and in my arms forever,” Gerald began, “I can crawl like a snail, babe.”

Smoothing the hand down his chest, his friend lightly skimmed one finger over his groin.

“But just so you’ll know, I can do naughty, too, if you need it.”

He captured the misbehaving finger and lifted it to his mouth, winking as he gave it a suggestive lick. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

“You do that, Slick.”

Shifting into a more comfortable position, Gerald pillowed his head against his shoulder and slowly drifted off to sleep.

Feeling the pull of Mr. Sandman himself, he let go of Gerald’s hand and watched with amusement when it settled down on his lower abdomen, its fingers coming to rest on the zipper of his jeans. A chuckle slipped out when the long tapered fingers flexed several times in succession. Even asleep, Gerald was determined to torture him.

After a moment, he turned his gaze to Gerald’s face and couldn’t resist testing the texture of his closely cropped hair, skimming a fingertip over his long eyelashes and down his prominent nose. Touching his finger to Gerald’s lips, he wondered whether this was the man to whom his future belonged. Would Gerald be the one to heal his broken heart and set it on a path that would lead to true love and happiness?

Leaning his head alongside Gerald’s so that their cheeks rested against each other, he looked out the wall-to-ceiling windows that were to his left and cursed inwardly when he saw a solitary hawk circling in the far distance.

 _Jethro_.

Shit! Couldn’t the man leave him alone for one fucking minute?

Praying for sleep to take him quickly, he screwed his eyes shut and focused all his thoughts and senses on the one he held against his heart.

 

 

 

“G-man! You plan on sitting out there all night staring at the stars?”

“Yep. I’m waiting for one to fall so that I can make a wish.”

Finished with the supper dishes, Tony slung the dishtowel he had been using to dry with over his shoulder and gave the industrial-sized stove a final once-over. Having lost the coin toss for the second night in a row, he had once again been delegated to kitchen duty, leaving Gerald free to enjoy the glorious sunset from the comfort of the padded swing located just outside the cabin’s back door. The two of them had talked companionably through the open door, and it was only once darkness had fallen that he realized Gerald had grown silent.

“What’cha plan on wishing for?” he asked, stepping onto the deck and joining Gerald on the swing.

“For a way to beat you at poker. At the rate things are going, you’ll own the very shirt on my back if I don’t figure out a way to beat you.”

“And that’s a bad thing?”

He slipped his arm over Gerald’s head and rested it on the back of the swing, toying with the strap that lay against the man’s neck. There had been a significant pause before Gerald had answered his question, and Tony knew his wish had nothing to do with how to win at cards.

Dropping a hand to Gerald’s left shoulder, he gave it a tender squeeze before setting the swing in motion. “That afternoon rain did the trick, didn’t it? Dropped the humidity and cleared the air.”

Gerald answered with a nod of his head.

Uncomfortable for once with the silence, he started humming to himself and turned his attention to the full moon overhead and the constellation of stars surrounding it. He was about to start naming the ones he could recognize when Gerald broke his silence.

“I take it you didn’t remember what today was?”

He turned his gaze from the Big Dipper to Gerald’s face and found him tugging nervously on the sling that cradled his left arm. As it was with most men, he wasn’t very adept at remembering significant dates involving his personal life, and from the way Gerald was avoiding making eye contact with him, he had obviously forgotten an important one.

“Will my life be in danger if I confess I don’t have a clue?”

He turned sideways on the swing, his knee nuzzling Gerald’s thigh while his hand maintained its hold on his shoulder. “Of course, if this is to be my last day on earth, can I have that pint of Ben and Jerry’s Cookie Dough ice cream you thought you so cleverly hid in the back of the freezer? It’s the least you could do, considering you’re about to hand me my head on a plate.”

His joking had the desired effect, and a smile spread across Gerald’s face one second before a chuckle broke out. “Asshole,” Gerald mumbled.

A hand clamped down on his thigh a little too close to _Mr. Perfect and the boys_ ,and he was forced to discourage the curious quintuplets from discovering the truth of his religion. “You gonna tell me what’s significant about today?”

Gerald playfully wiggled one finger loose and traced the inner aspect of his denim-clad thigh before answering. “Two years ago you and Gibbs strolled into the autopsy room, and Ducky introduced us to each other.”

“Really? Two years, huh?” He jumped up from the swing and modeled his physique for Gerald, tossing his dishtowel around like a cape while swivelling his hips and pouting his lips. “And just what were your thoughts when you saw this fine specimen of manhood walking toward you?”

“Cindy Crawford has nothing on you, Slick.” Laughter spilled out of Gerald as he watched him parade back and forth across the space in front of him. “And she **definitely** does not have your ass.”

He stopped and peered over his shoulder at one of his finer attributes. “It is a fine ass, I must agree.”

Gerald couldn’t resist reaching out and fondling the anatomy in question. “The finest, if you want my humble opinion.”

“Speaking of opinions….” He turned around and faced Gerald, breathing a tiny sigh of regret when those teasing fingers slid away from his butt. “You gonna tell me what you thought when you first saw little ole sexy me?”

Gerald settled back on the swing and uncharacteristically hid his face, gazing instead at the trees that bordered the edge of the property. “I remember thinking, ‘Damn, that DiNozzo’s handsome’ and ‘too bad he’s hopelessly in love with his boss.’”

Tony immediately quit trying to perfect his pout and fixed his gaze upon Gerald. “Hopeless, huh?”

“Yeah.”

Gerald finally turned back and cautiously looked up at him. “And as far as I can tell, you’re still damn handsome and **still** hopelessly in love with a man who’ll never love you like I can.” Without warning, he vacated the swing and walked over to the stairs that led down to the outdoor hot tub.

Tony followed and lightly clasped Gerald’s upper arms when he came within reach. “That was hitting a little bit below the belt, don’t’cha think?” This time he was the one sliding his arms around Gerald and offering a comforting hug. “I know you love me, G-man, and I’m trying really hard to—”

“I don’t want you to **try** ,” Gerald vehemently declared. “I want you to just fucking **love** me.”

Breaking free of the embrace, Gerald stumbled down the stairs and took a seat on the bottom one. “As long as you work at NCIS, Gibbs is never gonna break rule number whatever! He will **not** cross that line. So you gotta ask yourself, Slick, do you give up your dream of being an NCIS agent, or do you face reality and move on with your life or—to be more specific—move on with me?”

He again pursued Gerald and sat on the stair above him, lightly resting his hands on his friend’s shoulders before speaking. “You sure as hell don’t pull any punches, do ya?”

“Not when it comes to someone I care very deeply about.”

Gerald shrugged off his hold and stood up, losing his balance slightly but refusing the hands stretching out to assist him. “I know what you said when we arrived here, but it’s only been two days, and I’ve heard you say that man’s name more times than I can count. Gibbs this, Gibbs that. Therefore, I’m not really sure if you’ve given any serious thought to us being in a relationship at all. And if that’s the case, then I need to say this… **I** have no rules, Tony. I love you pure and simple and will never fuck you over and leave you with a broken heart. Gibbs has. Maybe you need to remember that.”

“Gerald.”

Tony held his hand out but let it drop to his side when it was pointedly ignored it.

“I think it’s time for me to hit the sack.” Gerald attempted to brush by but was prevented when an arm shot out and blocked his way.

“Do you know how hard this is for me? Wanting you, loving him? If Gibbs called me right now, I’d probably go to him. His hold on me is just that strong.”

“Then don’t answer the **damn** phone!”

Visibly forcing himself to take a deep, calming breath, Gerald unclenched his fists and tenderly touched a finger to his cheek.

“I realize that this is not an easy choice for you to make, but I need for you to remember that it’s **me** who’s been there every time Gibbs has ripped your heart to shreds. **I’m** the one who has held you, listened to you, dried your tears and literally put you back together. If that’s not the kind of love you want in your life, then….”

Gerald left the sentence unfinished, and after leaning down, he softly kissed him on the lips. “See ya in the morning, Slick.”

Tony sat staring out at the darkness, amazed at the anger coursing through him—anger at Jethro for forcing him into this situation, anger at Gerald for demanding he examine his heart, and lastly, anger at himself for being unable to choose between the two men, and for unforgivably hurting the one person who had stood by his side through everything.

Clambering to his feet an hour later, he took one last look at the full moon hovering above him before making his way inside the cabin. He was heading toward the bathroom but stopped short when he saw Gerald huddled in the rocking chair hugging his pillow. His friend didn’t even acknowledge his presence when he approached him, keeping his face buried in the pillow he held against his chest.

He brushed his hand over Gerald’s head before lowering his own so that he could whisper in the man’s ear. “I never meant to hurt you.”

He turned to leave, but a hand gripping his wrist kept him in place. No words were spoken as Gerald dropped his pillow on the floor and scooted back in the rocking chair, pulling him into his lap. Lost in their respective thoughts, the two of them held onto each other far into the night.

 

 


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One phone call and a decision is made.

 

The scent of freshly brewed coffee and hot-out-of-the-oven biscuits hit his nose a second before consciousness reached his brain. Immediately he sat up and held out his hand, begging sweetly, “Please, please, please.”

One filled-to-the-brim cup of java and one artery-clogging-buttered biscuit with a huge dollop of strawberry jam magically appeared in front of his face, and Tony gratefully thanked the man sitting down beside him on his makeshift bed. “You are my savior, G-man.”

Taking a sip of the scalding liquid, he gave up a sigh of pure bliss before groaning in ecstasy as his taste buds overloaded on the flavor of the preserves Gerald had smeared on his biscuit. “We have **got** to go back to that fresh produce market and buy some more of this stuff. It’s absolutely fantastic.”

His breakfast companion had yet to utter a word, and Tony looked to the side. He found Gerald gazing at him with a concerned look on his face.

“Are we okay with each other?” Gerald asked worriedly.

Knowing his friend was referring to the night before, Tony rushed to assure him. “We’re good, Gerald. Always have been, always will be.” Relief washed over him when the pinched look on Gerald’s face was replaced with the warm smile he had grown to love. In no way, did he want to hurt Gerald. He was too important to him, to his life.

“How’s the biscuit?”

“Touch it and you die.”

He scooted slightly away from the fingers sneaking toward the second half of the biscuit he had resting on his thigh. “How in the hell did you make biscuits from scratch with only one good arm?”

Gerald shifted forward and gently thumbed away the crumbs clinging to his bottom lip. The smile on his face widened when he heard a sudden gasp for air. “Rehab isn’t just about exercises. They teach you all sorts of things.”

“Cool. If that’s the case, you can do all the cooking from now on.”

Tony popped the last piece of biscuit inside his mouth and leaned back against his pillows, munching happily and licking his fingers clean. “Breakfast in bed. Can’t get any better than this.” An unexpected rush of heat spread throughout his body when he noticed the way Gerald was staring longingly at his mouth. His friend continued staring for several seconds before lowering his gaze to his bare chest and whistling softly.

“Damn,” Gerald murmured.

“G-man?” He questioned the practically drooling man sitting beside him. He didn’t want to admit it, but he was actually enjoying the way Gerald was examining his upper torso.

“I could,” Gerald whispered, his voice hesitant, “if you’d let me, Slick, I could make this morning a whole lot better. Maybe… maybe a little cream with your coffee?”

Tony found himself mesmerized not only by the movement of Gerald’s full lips and but also by the unexpected thought of kissing him. And because his mind was intrigued with that particular idea, he didn’t quite catch the full meaning of what was being offered to him. “You know I don’t take cream in….”

Realization hit him the moment Gerald moved closer and slowly, agonizingly slowly, licked his left tit. Without delay his body put his brain on hold when sharp teeth took possession of the hardening nub and tugged on it.

“Gerald!”

He scrambled further back on the bed, dislodging the covers from around his waist and revealing his nudity. “Oh shit,” he groaned when Gerald followed after him and put his mouth to work on the opposite nipple, biting it, sucking it, pulling on it until it ached in a most delicious way.

Confusion soon set in, and he didn’t know whether to push Gerald away or to encourage him by cradling his head against his chest. “Gerald… last night… maybe you shouldn’t be….” He squeezed his eyes shut, trying desperately to control the way his body was instinctively responding. “Fuck. Ger… G-man, oh fuck!”

Gerald lifted his head, and his eyes glittered with a fierce hunger. Licking his already wet lips, his friend leaned forward and whispered in his ear, “ **Please** , Slick. Let me show you how good I can make you feel. It’s only fair. Gibbs got his chance with you. Won’t you allow me the same opportunity?”

Every single thought of resistance evaporated when he heard Gerald’s heartfelt plea. How could he deny Gerald what he had freely given Jethro? And if he did deny Gerald, would that end their friendship? Would he find himself alone, with no one to love him, to hold him, to share his life with? Jethro sure as hell didn’t want him. Why deny the one who did?

Tony moaned his surrender when gentle hands cradled his head. Gerald touched their mouths together, easily parting his lips. An agile tongue soon made its inside his mouth and collect a taste of the jam denied to it earlier.

Sliding down in the bed, Tony kicked the sheets off his feverish body and welcomed the quivering fingers stroking and pinching his nipples. When the hand moved lower and began gently pumping his shaft, he drew up his knees and spread them wide, exposing himself completely. The incredible sensations bombarding his body melted his brain, and all he could do was groan and shiver and beg for the torture to continue. “Yeah, oh yeah… that’s… so… oh God, right there… yeah, tighter, no, I mean harder… yes, oh yes, oh **HELL** **YES**!”

Expert fingers took him to the very edge, held him suspended there for a few seconds before sending him plummeting into an orgasm that left him gasping frantically for air. Semen coated his abdomen, and he shuddered uncontrollably when Gerald bent his head and began to lick away the evidence of his release. Thank god he and his friend were both HIV negative, because there was no way on earth he could have stopped Gerald from doing what he was doing.

“Talk… talk about hitting below the belt,” he gasped out. Slowly straightening his legs, he was very careful not to dislodge the tongue lazily lapping at his navel. “Jesus, G-man! I think you just committed murder.”

“Hmmm?”

Gerald tilted his head to the side, and he got a glimpse of the Cheshire grin on his friend’s face. He also saw that Gerald’s lips were stained with semen. Damn it, if he had had one ounce of strength left in his body, he would have tackled him to the bed and licked his lips until they were spotlessly clean. “You killed me, G-man. Hell, just watching you nibble on my bellybutton is killing me.”

“Think I’ll get a life sentence for that particular crime?”

His navel was treated to a sloppy raspberry and his friend laughed when he tried to wiggle away.

“If you plan on getting some more of those preserves you claim to love, you better resurrect that sorry ass of yours and get moving,” Gerald instructed. “Remember, the owner of the produce market said she would only be open for a few hours this morning before leaving on a cruise with her husband.”

Gerald pressed a quick kiss to the head of his flaccid penis before standing up and collecting the coffee cup that had miraculously retained its contents despite being clasped in a hand that still trembled slightly.

 “You’ve got fifteen minutes, Slick, before I claim rights to the shower. Haul butt.”

He watched Gerald saunter toward the kitchen, and the way his friend was deliberately swaying his hips back and forth made him wish his arms were long enough so that he could catch the tight buns presently encased in grey wool sweats and squeeze them like Mr. Whipple did with the Charmin bath tissue. Squeeze ‘em and pinch ‘em and—

“Thirteen minutes! And if you want another cup of coffee, you better get over here.”

He scrambled off his bed. “Wait! I’m coming. I’m coming.”

“I think you’ve been there and done that already this morning,” came back the droll retort.

Skidding to a stop just short of the kitchen table, he flipped Gerald the bird while reaching for a fresh cup of coffee. “Smartass.”

“You got that right, **Dumbass**.” Gerald snapped him on the butt with a damp dishtowel. “My ass is smart and your ass is… ahhh.”

Putting down his cup, Tony wiggled his behind and squealed when it was grabbed and shoved in the direction of the bathroom. “Hey! No squeezing the Charmin,” he yelled. Before he could retaliate, he found himself inside the bathroom, facing a closed door with the words ‘Eleven minutes!’ echoing in his ears.

“Damn time tyrant,” he muttered as he turned toward the shower and snagged a clean washcloth. “And I didn’t even get to get finish my second cup of **Coffee**!” Suddenly the door swung open, barely missing his butt, and he was pulled into a rib-crushing hug and kissed breathless. Grinning victoriously, Gerald exited just as quickly as he had appeared, leaving him sitting on the side of tub, wearing a goofy grin and holding a steaming cup of coffee.

“Ten minutes, Slick. Get moving!”

His eyes widening with surprise, Tony stared at the closed door with only one thought circling through his grey matter. _I’m falling in love with my best friend. I’m actually falling in love with Gerald._

 

 

 

“Forty-nine, fifty.”

Tony grinned when his arms were suddenly filled with the collapsed form of his best friend.

His dark skin glistening with sweat, Gerald let go of the pulley strap with an exhausted sigh. “Enough,” he gasped out. “You’re killing me, Slick.”

 Tony cradled Gerald’s head in the crook of his neck. “Wimp.” He snagged a towel and rubbed it over Gerald’s head and down his back. Pushing him away, he repeated the process, gently wiping the man’s face before taking a few swipes at his bare chest and arms. “Come on. You did 75 reps yesterday. Just 25 more to go.”

Gerald drank thirstily from his water bottle while glaring at him. “Have I told you lately how much I hate you?”

Expertly catching the empty bottle thrown in his direction and tossing it on the floor, Tony then palmed Gerald’s pecs with his open hands and pushed him back into position on the exercise machine’s elevated seat. “Sticks and stones may break my bones but.…” he began to sing, but stopped abruptly when he felt the nipples beneath his hands harden into tight little peaks of flesh. Sneaking a quick glance at Gerald’s groin, he let out a whistle. “If that’s how your body reacts when you hate someone, I’d love to see what happens when—”

 **WHAP**!

He grinned before snatching away the towel aiming for a second swing at his head. “That’s 20 extra reps for coach abuse.”

“Give me a minute, and I’ll **show** you some abuse,” Gerald grumbled under his breath while grabbing for the pulley strap with his left hand and grudgingly beginning the final set of exercises.

“Promise, promises.” Laughing, Tony waggled his eyebrows at Gerald, and after assessing that he was performing the required exercises correctly, collected the empty water container and walked over to the kitchen. He was in the process of grabbing a fresh bottle from the fridge when his cellphone rang.

“DiNozzo,” he answered once he had managed to dig his phone out from beneath the pile of clean clothes lying on the kitchen island waiting to be folded.

“DiNozzo, it’s Gibbs. I need you.”

Along with his phone, he felt his heart fall to the floor. Luckily for the phone, he was able to catch it before it made contact with the tile floor. Unfortunately for his heart, the emotions that had been safely tucked away for the past week rose up to slap him full in the face.

 _I need you_ , Jethro had said.

_Shit! Why now? Why do you need me now that I’m ready to move on with my life?_

He glanced over his shoulder at Gerald and saw that he had finished his exercises and was stretching out on the couch, waiting for the daily massage of his tired muscles.

“DiNozzo!” Jethro’s voice barked over the phone.

Hunching over in order to hide his conversation from his overly astute friend, he lifted the phone back to his ear and answered softly, “Jethro, I’m confused. I thought you told me you would never—”

“DiNozzo, get your brain out of your dick. I need you to come back to work. That’s all.”

The unforgettable ache of his recent heartbreak was nothing compared to the excruciating pain crippling his entire body as a result of Jethro’s crude reply.

_There he goes again, accusing me of thinking with my dick. Why? Why does he believe I would do that?_

He desperately searched his memory for the reason—any reason—that would make Jethro say such a thing.

_Yeah, I may play the Lothario at work, but that’s all an act—an act to keep Kate and McGee from discovering I’m gay. But Jethro knows that. Jethro knows I don’t chase after the skirts._

“DiNozzo, are you listening? Did you hear what I said?”

Water showered his face, and he gasped when he saw that he had crushed the bottle he was holding in his hand.

“DiNozzo!”

Wiping the water from his eyes and faking a sense of calmness he did not feel, he spoke quietly into his phone. “My vacation is not over, Boss. I’ll see you when I get back on Monday.” With that he ended the call and then proceeded to turn the cell’s ringer off. He was under no obligation to Jethro, not professionally and sure as hell not personally.

He yanked free the towel that hung on the wall over the sink and dropped it on the floor to soak up the water he’d spilled. “Damn you, Gibbs,” he muttered as he bent down to finish wiping the floor. “There’s no fucking reason for you to treat me like this. If nothing else, I’m your colleague, damn it, and I deserve to be treated with the same respect you give Ducky or Kate or Abby.”

Taking a deep breath to settle his frayed nerves, he straightened and threw the saturated towel in the sink. He continued heaping curse after curse upon his supervisor’s head while collecting a fresh bottle of water from the fridge and heading back into the living room area. Curious as to why Gerald hadn’t hit him with the twenty-question quiz, he glanced down and discovered his friend fast asleep.

He couldn’t help the sigh of relief that slipped out as he took his customary seat in the rocking chair next to the couch. Gerald, much to his delight, had discovered the chair was not only wide enough but also sturdy enough to hold their combined weight. Once this discovery was made, his vacation buddy had insisted they take their morning coffee cuddled together in it so that they could watch the sun rising over the tops of the nearby trees.

Even now, as he watched Gerald snuggle deeper in the couch, he could still feel the comforting presence of his arms as they had surrounded him earlier this morning. The past week had been exactly what the doctor had ordered—Dr. Mallard, that is. He and Gerald had spent nearly every moment together, exploring the surrounding countryside on foot, fishing in the nearby stream, cuddled on the couch eating countless bags of microwave popcorn as they perused Mr. Solo’s amazing collection of old movies. Each day finished with the two of them lazing in the outdoor hot tub, enjoying an ice-cold beer while discussing, or arguing as the case may be, their personal views on world events, religion and politics, not to mention everything else under the sun. It had turned into a week-long journey of truly getting to know each other, and they had so far managed the trip with only a few minor mishaps.

The smile that had crept onto his face while thinking about Gerald slid into a frown when he realized he was still holding his cellphone. _How ironic_ , he thought shaking his head. _Here I have a man who is more than willing to commit his heart and his future to me, and yet, I’m still holding on to the bastard who has repeatedly denied my love for him._

He stared at the phone in his hand for a long time, his gaze shifting to Gerald every minute or so as his heart weighed the evidence of each man’s feelings for him. Love and commitment versus lust and an uncertain future. Was the choice **that** difficult to make?

Evening shadows began to invade the cabin’s interior while he wrestled with his thoughts and emotions, and it wasn’t until he was surrounded by darkness that he finally came to a decision.

Getting to his feet, he walked over to the closet where he had stored his personal belongings and clothes. On the floor was his duffle bag, and he carefully placed his cellphone inside and zipped the bag closed. Afraid his mind would second guess his heart, he rose swiftly to his feet and firmly shut the closet door. Without hesitation, he moved back to where Gerald was sleeping and took a seat on the coffee table.

Sometime during his nap and without him noticing, Gerald had flipped over on his abdomen, and his face was now hidden in the softness of his pillow with his right arm dangling off the side of the couch. He took a moment to admire Gerald’s lean physique before reaching out and lightly skimming his fingers down his spine.

“Tony.”

The soft murmur of his name was like the rustle of velvet on skin and was all the encouragement he needed. Before Gerald could draw his next breath, he was kneeling beside the couch and lowering his mouth to taste the dimpled indentation at the base of Gerald’s spine.

A tremulous sigh laden with tenderness broke the silence as he curved one hand over Gerald’s left buttock while his lips followed in reverse the trail his fingers had taken seconds before. Reaching the nape of Gerald’s neck, he spent precious moments branding the area with moist kisses, his ragged breath drying the dampness of his caresses from the dark flesh almost immediately.

“Gerald,” he whispered. “Wake up. I need to ask you something.”

Flipping over on his back, Gerald mumbled something in his sleep but did not awaken.

The spark of desire that had been smoldering beneath the surface of his soul blazed into a consuming fire, and Tony felt the invisible bands of control he had placed upon himself disintegrate, freeing him to embrace the love that had been freely offered to him days earlier.

His voice thick as the night, he called to Gerald as he carefully crawled on the couch and straddled the man’s narrow hips. “Gerald, come on, babe. Open those eyes and look at me.”

He laid his hands flat against Gerald’s upper chest and stroked the pads of his thumbs back and forth over his collarbone, meeting in the middle on the last swipe and dragging them down the center of his breastbone. Spreading his fingers wide and curving them slightly, he continued his journey south, gliding over the muscular terrain of well-defined abs, his thumbs again coming into play as they caught and skimmed the rim of Gerald’s navel.

Just as he started to tug on the waistband of the bicycle shorts Gerald wore when exercising, he felt the shuddering breath and flutter of abdominal muscles that announced Gerald’s return to wakefulness. His breathing jammed when he glanced up and was pinned by a pair of hooded eyes, their depths dark and sensual.

“Tony,” Gerald moaned his name and reached for him, a hand sliding up his arm and closing around the back of his neck, pulling him down until their lips scraped against each other as they shared their first kiss as lovers.

Savoring the taste of what he hoped would be only the first of many kisses, he captured Gerald’s mouth, nipping gently on his bottom lip, sliding his tongue over its fullness before sending it forward to request entry into the welcom­ing heat inside. Restless fingers tangled in his hair as Gerald acknowledged his petition and granted him access to the inner most recesses of his scorching hot mouth. Precious air was stolen and then returned as he struggled to memorize the kiss that would forever seal his future to that of his friend’s.

Slowly drawing away, he corrected himself as he playfully flicked his tongue back and forth over Gerald’s swollen lips. _Not my friend._ He shifted his hips deliberately and groaned low in his throat when his move was answered by a hardness that matched the one being strangled by his jeans. _Not my friend anymore. Gerald’s my lover._

_My lover._

He cupped the back of Gerald’s head, holding him absolutely still and drawing his gaze back to his face. “Does the offer still stand, G-man?” A hand slid down his chest and rested squarely over his heart.

“Come to bed, Tony. Let me love you.”

Tony felt his heart shudder to a stop when he saw the love shining in Gerald’s eyes. This was where he belonged.

With this man.

With Gerald.

He scrambled off the couch and held out his hand to Gerald, helping his lover to his feet before wrapping his arms around him and capturing his sigh of happiness as he led them both into the bedroom.

“I can’t believe this is really going to happen. Tony, oh god, I’ve been waiting for so long.”

Gerald stopped him just short of the bedroom and kissed him along his left jaw and down his throat, nipping the length of his collarbone until hampered by the old _Airwolf_  t-shirt he wore. “I want you, Tony. I want you in me. Now.”

Tony stripped off his shirt and dropped it on the floor, his body shuddering with need as Gerald continued anointing his flesh with tender love bites. “Tell me you brought some lube. Lots of lube”

Laughing with unadulterated joy, Gerald pulled him into the bedroom, and the sweet sounds of their loving serenaded the night, never once tarnished by the persistent flicker of light from deep within the duffle bag stored inside the closet.

 

 


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ducky shares a few hard truths with Jethro.

 

“DiNozzo, get your brain out of your dick. I need you to come back to work. That’s all.”

Taking a seat on one of the rolling stools Ducky kept in the autopsy room, Jethro tucked his cellphone beneath his ear and viciously rubbed his forehead in a futile attempt to will away the nagging headache that had plagued him for the past week—the week that Tony had been gone on vacation. It had been the longest, the loneliest and the hardest week of his life, and he didn’t doubt for a second that both Kate and McGee were seriously considering handing in their resigna­tions. To put it mildly, he had been a bastard to work with, and that was exactly how his co-workers had described his behavior during the **first** part of the week. He didn’t even want to know what names they were calling him now.

He scooted his chair over to one of the large coolers and rested the back of his head against its cold metal surface, his sigh of frustration breaking the silence as he waited for Tony to answer. When the younger man remained silent for an ex­tended period of time, he barked, “DiNozzo, are you listening? Did you hear what I said?”

Banging his head against the door, he grimaced when the pain of that maneuver only served to intensify his headache. God, he missed Tony. Missed the ex-cop’s quick wit, his brash behaviour, his easy smile—and yet, even as much as he craved Tony’s presence in his life, he knew without a doubt that it was safer to have him out of sight. Unfor­tunately, his heart disagreed with this way of thinking, and reminded him of that fact every time he crawled into bed and buried his face in the pillow that had briefly cradled Tony’s head the day he’d given into the passion pounding out of control in his blood.

“DiNozzo!”

He realized he was taking out his anger and frustration on Tony, but he couldn’t help himself. He needed to keep him at a safe distance, or else it would be Cameron all over again, a loved one killed because he, Jethro Gibbs, had crossed the line.

“My vacation is not over, Boss. I’ll see you when I get back on Monday.”

Tony’s soft-spoken reply caught him by surprise, and before he could even formulate an answer, the line went dead. Tony had hung up on him.

“DiNozzo?” He slapped his phone against the palm of his hand several times as if that would miraculously re-establish his connection. “I know you didn’t just hang up on me. DiNozzo, I’m gonna ha—”

“Jethro?”

Busy punching in the number to Tony’s cell, he refused to look up at the person who had just joined him. “What is it, Ducky?”

A hard right clipped him on the jaw, and the force of the blow sent him rolling across the highly polished floor. “What the hell was that for?” he asked, pocketing his phone for the moment.

Ducky stood with his hands on his hips, glaring angrily at him. “If I ever hear you talk like that to Anthony again, I’ll do more than belt you one. And don’t think I won’t do it. I’ll have you know I was the defending champion three years running of my college boxing—”

Rubbing his jaw, Jethro interrupted his rambling colleague. “I thought you were on my side.”

As if realizing what he had just done, Ducky looked down at his hand in surprise and grimaced when he saw his reddened knuckles. Moving to the ice machine that was tucked in the south corner of the autopsy room, he dumped a load of chipped ice into a small plastic tub and slid his hand inside. “Better, much better,” he murmured.

Jethro warily approached his friend and was somewhat surprised when he was allowed to steal a handful of ice. Pressing the frozen crystals to his jaw, he took a step away and frowned when he heard what Ducky had to say next.

“I’m not on your side, and I’m not on Tony’s side,” Ducky stated. “I’m on the side of love, and we both know our young colleague will never find that with you.”

Jethro wanted to deny the truth of those words and even opened his mouth to do so, but promptly clenched his jaw shut when Ducky held up his uninjured hand.

His voice softening, the ME continued with his explanation. “Tony needs someone who’s going to love him one hundred percent, and sadly enough, that’s not you, my dear boy. You are entirely dedicated to this job, and no doubt that is the main reason your three marriages failed. Not to mention those blasted rules you’ve invented. You’ll never break whatever rule it is that prevents you from fraternizing with your coworkers. You’ll never break it, Jethro, no matter what. You may bend it slightly—.”

“Meaning?” Jethro resumed his seat but did so at a safer distance. He hadn’t realized how attached Ducky had become to Tony, and thought it best to remain out of reach of the man’s lethal right punch.

Lifting his hand out of the ice, Ducky examined the red­dened knuckles before turning his gaze toward him. “To put it crudely, you might fuck him, you may even profess to love him, but you’ll never commit to him, Jethro. Not as long as you’re with the agency.”

“I could retire.” He wondered briefly what his life would be like if he did, indeed, retire from NCIS. From the moment he had turned eighteen, he had dedicated himself to serving his country in one capacity or another, and it was hard to visualize a future that did not include ‘Uncle Sam’ in it.

“Don’t waste my time with such frivolities, Jethro.” Ducky emptied the bin of ice and set it aside to drain. “The military, this **job** , has been the sole focus of your life, especially since Cameron died, and the powers that be will have to **order** you to step down when the time comes for you to retire.”

Jethro waved off Ducky’s objection. Yes, he was, to put it mildly, **dedicated** to his work. And yes, his three wives had not appreciated nor understood his extreme devotion. Of course, the blame for that lay squarely upon his shoulders, for he had never shared his past with any of them. Not one knew of his bisexuality, of his love for Cameron, nor of the guilt he carried with him every day of his life. He had been responsible for his lover’s death, and once Cameron was gone, there had been nothing left for him—nothing except the overwhelming need to devote all his time and energy to the one thing that promised to keep him from eating the barrel of his gun—the Marine Corp.

His hunger for Tony had blindsided him, shattering the icy shield he had encased his heart inside the moment Cameron had taken his last breath. He wanted Tony in the worst way, but every time he gazed into Tony’s coffee-coloured eyes, his mind threw up the bloody image of Cameron dying in his arms. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t bring himself to cross the line he had drawn in the sand so many years ago.

He refused to compromise their friendship and would not allow his lust to jeopardize their careers. Not to mention, he had the lives of their co-workers to consider. What if his personal feelings for Tony overrode his common sense, and during a moment of weakness, his actions placed Kate or McGee in a dangerous situation? There was no way he could face himself in the mirror if, God forbid, one of them were injured or killed because he had dropped his guard and ignored the rules he had set for himself.

And yet, the memory of Tony’s mouth on his, the feel of his lean body pressed against him invaded his dreams every night, testing his resolve, slowly eroding his control and pushing him to the very edge of madness.

He lifted his gaze to the ceiling and said softly, “I don’t want to hurt Tony, but—”

“Then don’t,” Ducky slipped in. “Let him find love with someone else. Someone who can dedicate their whole heart to him, someone who doesn’t live with a ghost still clinging to their back.”

Jethro ignored the ghost comment. Cameron wasn’t a topic up for discussion, not even with Ducky. “You mean Gerald, don’t you?”

Ducky pulled up a stool and took a seat across from him. “Gerald has had feelings for Tony from the moment they met, and he has done everything in his power to assist our young colleague through these recent arduous times. Arduous, I might add, because of you, Jethro.”

Ducky gently patted him on the knee to take the sting out of his words. “Now, I’m not claiming sainthood for Gerald, but he has been with Tony every step of the way, offering him an unconditional love and friendship that, obviously, the boy craves. Do you have any idea how important Gerald is to Tony? Have you even noticed how often Tony actively seeks out Gerald’s company?”

“I’ve noticed,” Jethro grumbled. “Too damn often, if you ask me.”

To put it bluntly, he resented the hell out of Gerald. Resented the easy camaraderie he had formed not only with Tony but with the other members of his team. How many times in the past year had he been forced to watch from the sidelines—watch Kate and Abby, along with Tony, join Gerald on some outing, whether it be a trip to the movies or to a local restaurant—while **he** went home to the empty, skeleton shell of the boat that fittingly reflected the state of his life.

“That’s your jealousy speaking, and it’s totally uncalled for. You’re the one who rejected Tony and pushed him into Gerald’s arms.”

Ducky’s voice snatched him away from his thoughts. “I only meant that Tony should be concentrating his attention on—”

“On you?”

He glared at the bespectacled ME. “I was going to say ‘on his work.’ He should be concentrating on his work.”

“Right. Of course you were.” Ducky treated him to a bemused look. “You really should remember who you are talking to. Bullshitting a bullshitter just won’t work.”

Jethro jerked away and stood up, his sudden move startling both himself and Ducky. “What do you want me to say? That I love Tony beyond reason? That I want him in my bed, in my arms every night of my life, and damn the conse­quences? Is that what you want to hear?”

Stabbing a hand through his hair, he groaned when the pain of his headache blossomed into a full-blown migraine. “I want him, Ducky… so help me God, I want him, but if something should happen to him because of me, because of my past, I just don’t think I could live with myself.”

It was all true, every word he had just uttered. He wanted Tony with his entire being, but that longing came with too high a price; and if anything, he was a pragmatic man. He could not, **would not** put Tony in harm’s way just so he could satisfy the insatiable hunger that tormented him every day.

He pulled out his cell and dialed Tony’s number, wish­ing nothing more than to apologize for his behavior and to explain the reason for his call. The phone rang and rang and rang, and finally he had to admit defeat. _In more ways than one_ , he thought.

Turning back around, he calmly announced, in a voice that might have fooled his co-workers but not the person regarding him with a sympathetic look, “Tell Gerald I wish him the best of luck in his endeavour to win Tony’s heart. He’s a good man, and I have no doubt he’ll give Tony the love he so richly deserves.”

He had closed his eyes in defense, unwilling to view the victorious smile he was sure was now present on Ducky’s face. It would have been the last straw for his battered heart; and even though he knew he was doing the right thing—relinquishing his dream—it felt wrong… deep-down-in-his-soul wrong.

“I realize how much this must be hurting you right now, but you’re doing the right thing,” Ducky whispered in his ear before pulling his tightly coiled frame into a comforting hug. “Tony’s happiness is the chief issue here, is it not?”

Looking over the ME’s shoulder at the cellphone he still held in his hand, he hit redial and watched as the call, once again, went unanswered. “What about **my** happiness? When will **it** be the chief issue?”

With obvious reluctance, Ducky let him go, and he angrily lurched out of the room. Just before the door to the autopsy room slid shut, he heard his friend speak, and he stuck his hand out and stopped the door from closing completely.

“Maybe,” Ducky advised, “you should ask Cameron’s ghost that particular question. I have a feeling he’s the only one who knows the answer to your questions.” 

Shaking his head, Jethro allowed the door to close shut both on Ducky's suggestion and on the memory of the man he had loved and lost.

 


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vacation is over and it's time for Tony to go back to work.

 

“Come on, Gerald. I need to get home and wash clothes and such. Gotta go back to work tomorrow, remember?”

Tony looked down at the man licking and sucking on his toes and groaned as _Mr. Perfect_ valiantly struggled to rise to the occasion one last time. It had only been three hours since they had arrived back at Gerald’s apartment, and during those three hours, Gerald and he had made love in several different locations. At this moment, he found himself sprawled across the kitchen table, butt hanging off the edge while his naked lover sat before him feasting on his incredibly sensitive tootsies.

“I know I said… damn, that tickles… I could go all night but… Not there. Please, not there. Shit, Gerald!”

Gripping the fingers tickling his well-ridden ass, he pushed them away and then sat up. “No more, G-man. I’m wiped out, down for the count, dead on my feet… or maybe that should be dead on my ass.” He grinned tiredly at his lover. “Remind me to start taking some vitamins. The way you’re going, I’m gonna need all the help I can get.”

Gerald allowed his great toe to slip noisily from his mouth, and returned his grin as he pulled him off the table and onto his lap. His lover quickly echoed his hiss of soreness when their hypersensitive shafts came in contact with each other. “Maybe you should consider getting a pre­scription of Viagra, too. We’ve got lots of lost time to make up.”

Tony closed his eyes and moaned when Gerald leaned for­ward and captured one of his nipples with his mouth, He suckled it hungrily for several seconds before seizing it with his teeth and tugging on it hard. He clasped Gerald’s head in warning, but instead of pushing him away, he gentled his grip and encouraged him to continue, guiding his mouth to the right and then back to the left nipple. God, he loved the feel of Gerald’s mouth on his body; and if he had one drop of spunk left in his balls, he’d be begging for Gerald to go down on him and suck him off.

Finally, his lover settled his mouth upon the Saint Christopher medal he was wearing, and he watched as Gerald blessed it with a reverent kiss. The medal was actu­ally Gerald’s, and just this morning he had insisted he wear it for protection now that their vacation was over.

“Are you ready to face Gibbs?” Gerald asked him softly, his lips detouring from the silver medallion so that he could lick at the sweat that had collected in the hollow at the base of his neck.

Tony cradled Gerald’s head against his shoulder and pressed a kiss to his forehead. Was he ready to face the per­son he had thought he would be spending the rest of his life with? The man who had given him a brief taste of heaven before ripping his heart out and leaving him in hell? Gentle lips touched his jaw, followed a second later by a tender hand caressing his naked back, and immediately he had his answer.

“Yeah. Yeah I’m ready to face him.”                                  

“Are you sure?”

He captured the fingers nervously tugging on the tufts of hair surrounding his nipples. He instinctively knew some­thing else was bothering Gerald, and he asked without hesi­tation, “What’s wrong, G-man?”

Gerald hid his face against his neck and whispered halt­ingly, “Ya know, Slick, it’s not… it’s not too late if you want to change your mind, if you need to reconsider being with me. I mean, I’d….” Intertwining their hands, Gerald tightly gripped his. “I’d understand if you wanted to give Jethro another chance.”

He stared in awe at the man he held in his arms, and his heart swelled with emotion. It had only been three days since he had made the decision to enter into a relationship with his best friend. Three days of incredible soul-searching, of dis­covering hidden desires, of gentle, sometimes mad, passionate love-making. He and Gerald had been inseparable during that time, building on their friendship, establishing a bond that went way beyond the physical aspect of their relationship.

Humbled beyond words when faced with the sacrifice Gerald was willing to make, he was unable to comprehend why his lover would freely give up all that they had shared in the past three days just so that he could take up with Jethro again. It had to be love, he thought, and that simple conclusion humbled him even more, to the point where unbidden moisture collected in his eyes.

“Ah, G-man.”

He wrapped his arms around Gerald’s shoulders and fiercely hugged him, loosening his hold when he heard Gerald choke back a slight grunt of pain. Apologizing with a kiss to the surgical scar on his left shoulder, he quietly answered his lover, “I want you to listen to me good, babe, ‘cause I’m only gonna say this once. I have no need whatsoever to reconsider my decision. Gibbs has made it quite clear that he does **not** want me in his life. Whereas **you** have bent over backwards, in more ways than one I might add, to show me just how much you care for me and need me in yours.”

He heard Gerald’s gruffly mumbled ‘asshole’ and knew he was referring to the ‘bent over backwards’ comment. He couldn’t help but chuckle when he recalled just how far Gerald had indeed bent over backwards during their earlier lovemaking session in the bathroom.

“In fact, a very obvious clue to your feelings for me is, as we speak, making itself known, and I suddenly find myself with a new lease on life. A miracle in itself, considering how many times _Mr. Perfect_ has shot his load already today. Must be a damn record.”

He lifted his hips and shifted forward. When he sat back down, he found he had effectively trapped Gerald’s erection in the crack of his butt. Slowly riding the swelling organ, he huskily inquired, “Is there a place we haven’t fucked yet?”

His nipples were pinched and twisted before he got his answer. “The utility room,” Gerald replied. The man’s voice deepened with lust when Tony used his buttcheek muscles to clamp down on his shaft. “It’ll be a tight fit, though, squeez­ing in there with the washing machine and dryer.”

“A tight squeeze is just what the doctor ordered.” He slid off of Gerald’s lap and pulled him to his feet. “You’re gonna love the spin cycle, G-man.”

Before he could take a step toward the utility closet, strong fingers gripped his hips and turned him around. He found himself face to face with his lover and a look that silenced his witty repartee. “Gerald?”

His lover held him stationary and gazed deeply into his eyes—so deep Tony was sure he was looking straight at his soul. Minutes ticked by while Gerald searched for the truth, and when finally released from the intense scrutiny of those fathomless brown eyes, he knew their newly forged bond had been strengthened that much more.

“Everything okay now?” he asked. He had seen the answer in Gerald’s smile, but for some reason, he needed just a tad bit more reassurance.

Gerald slid hands up his chest and across his shoulders, coaxing him with a touch to both arms. A joyful sigh slipped out when he obeyed the unspoken request and pulled him into a tender embrace.

“I love you, Slick,” Gerald solemnly said.

Overcome with emotion, all Tony could say in return was, “Same here.” The remaining words he knew he needed to say to Gerald got stuck in his throat, but from the way his lover was kissing and touching him, he figured what he had said was good enough for the time being.

Lifting Gerald in his arms, he laughed when the man automatically locked his legs around his waist. “Ready for a little spin action, my man?”

“Spin me, baby. Spin me.”

 

 

 

Singing his favourite _Train_ song, ‘Calling All Angels’, Tony pulled into his parking spot at NCIS headquarters just as the cellphone clipped to his belt began to vibrate. He checked to see who was calling and a huge grin spread across his face when the caller ID indicated it was a certain tall, brown-eyed, black-skinned, hung-like-nobody’d-believe, sex god.

“Can’t live without me, can ya?” Tony queried as he climbed out of his Corvette.

“Absolutely not,” Gerald answered. “Tell me again how long it’ll be before you’re back in my arms **and** in my ass fucking me senseless?”

Tony promptly dropped his keys and blushed furiously. “Gerald!” he exclaimed in a hushed tone. “Watch what you’re saying, for god’s sake.”

“You know you love it when I talk dirty.”

“Yeah, I do but not when I’m at work. Geeze Louise.” Tony furtively looked over his shoulder before bending down and retrieving his keys. “I don’t particularly think Gibbs would appreciate me walking around all day with a woody.”

“He better not. That giant redwood is all mine.”

Tony couldn’t help but laugh at his lover’s remark. “You say the most romantic things.”

“You haven’t heard nothing yet, Slick.”

Tucking his phone beneath his ear, he reached back into his car for his backpack. “Was there a purpose to this call, or did you just want to see if I survived the fuckfest you treated me to yesterday?”

He checked the perimeter for onlookers before rubbing his sore behind and thanking ole two-timing ex-boyfriend, Liam, for leaving behind a bottle of cooling gel when he moved out. Liberal use of the gel along with long soaks in the tub both last night and this morning had been his salvation, thus preventing him from walking into the office with a definite tell-tale swagger. “Next time we explore your apartment, **I’m** gonna be top dog, and you can be the one with an ass that’s been fucked to the max.”

“Bring it on, Slick,” Gerald challenged. “I’m more than willing to be on the receiving end next time around.”

“There ya go again, saying something romantic.” Enjoying the sound of Gerald’s laughter, Tony felt his grin slip into a frown when he saw a familiar SUV heading in his direction. “Gotta go, G-man. Gibbs is here.”

“That’s actually why I called,” Gerald quickly informed him. “If he hassles you in any way, you better damn well phone me. I’ll be there in a flash and kick his sorry ass into the Potomac River.”

Tony suspiciously returned Jethro’s wave while answering his lover. “I think you’d have a little trouble getting over here, G-man. Your sister has your car, remember?”

“Shit! I forgot.”

Tony could hear Gerald flipping the pages of a book. “No never mind,” his lover declared. “I’ll call a cab. Got the number right here.”

Unwilling to admit it even to himself, he found he relished Gerald’s protective nature; and if he could have kissed him through the phone, he would have done so. “I promise to call if something happens, okay?”

“Call me no matter what,” Gerald replied. “We can do phone sex when you break for lunch. I’ll tell you how much I like eating your manly sausage while you tell me how much you like sucking down my tasty love juice. How’s that sound?”

He nearly choked to death on his answer when he looked up and found Jethro staring at him with a curious look on his face. “I’ll… I’ll see what I can do about that.” Turning to the side so that his boss wouldn’t witness his sappy grin of hap­piness, he whispered, “Love you, G-man.”

“Back at ya, Slick. Later!”

Clicking his phone off and returning it to the clip on his belt, he warily turned back to face his supervisor and aimed a sharp nod in his direction. “Morning, Boss.” Adverse to the possibility of being slapped with a sarcastic reply at such an early hour, he slipped past Jethro and headed toward the garage’s nearest stairwell.

“Tony!”

The fact that Jethro called him not by his last but by his first name stopped him dead in his tracks. “Yeah?”

Jethro quickly joined him and startled him by grasping his arm in a gentle grip. “Ducky told me about you and Gerald.”

Tony sucked in a ragged breath and readied himself to defend the relationship he had entered into with his best friend. “I really don’t see where that’s any of your business.” Gritting his teeth against the feelings Jethro’s touch was arousing inside him, he pulled his arm free. “If you’ll excuse me.”

“Tony, wait.”

Jethro again took hold of his arm and swung him around to face him. “I just wanted to say I was happy to hear the news.”

“No doubt,” he muttered tersely. “Hell, I bet you were more than happy. Bet you were totally ecstatic to hear I wouldn’t be throwing myself at your feet anymore.” He again tried to wrestle free but was stopped when Jethro grabbed both his arms. Tony clenched his fists open and closed in an attempt to keep from hauling off and punching the older man. “Let go, Gibbs. Now.”

“DiNozzo, would you shut up for one second and let me talk.”

He snapped his mouth shut and mulishly stared at Jethro. With obvious reluctance, Jethro let go of him, and he immediately took advantage of the fact, distancing himself by taking several steps back. “I’m listening.”

Seeking shelter in the shadows of the nearest support column, he watched Jethro rub his forehead as if in severe pain. “I truly am glad to hear that you’ve hooked up with Gerald,” Jethro finally said. “I know you don’t believe it, but I really do care about you, Tony, and want nothing more than for you to be happy. Gerald’s a good man, and he’ll treat you right.”

“Which is more than I can say for you,” Tony lashed out verbally, wanting nothing more than to inflict upon Jethro just a measure of the pain he had inflicted upon him.

“I’m sorry for the shitty way I treated you. There are things about me….” Jethro halted his explanation and took a step closer to him. “I’m sorry I was such a bastard.”

He waited for Jethro to say more; but when the man remained silent, he shrugged his shoulders and made to move past him. Jethro pressing his hand to his chest halted his forward momentum, and Tony couldn’t contain the almost inaudible groan that rose in his throat when Jethro’s hand covered the spot where his heart was beating like a train speeding out of control. Couldn’t the man leave him alone, let him get on with his life—a life that was now focused on his love for Gerald?

“I’m not asking for forgiveness, DiNozzo.”

“Good, ‘cause I’m not sure I could give you any.”

He moved a step back and closed his eyes against the sight of Jethro’s hand sliding down his chest and catching briefly on his belt before finally falling away. “You hurt me, Boss. Hurt me bad, and I don’t know if I can ever forgive you for that.”

“Fair enough,” Jethro answered.

Tony opened his eyes when he heard the husky note in Jethro’s voice. He looked hard at the man standing before him, and his gaze widened in surprise when he saw the desire smouldering in those unbelievable blue eyes. “Boss,” he cautioned.

Turning away abruptly, Jethro ignored his warning. “Time to get to work, DiNozzo. You’re already ten minutes late.”

He stood shock still, and shaking his head in disbelief, watched Jethro walk away. “If I live to be a hundred, I will **never** understand that man.”

His conflicting thoughts about Jethro were interrupted when a silver grey, vintage Volvo pulled up beside him and honked. The tinted window on the driver’s side was lowered as he stepped up to the car, and found himself being greeted by an extremely cheerful Medical Examiner.

“Is it not a glorious morning, Anthony?”

“It’s morning, alright, Ducky. Don’t know about the glorious part, though.” Tony was about to inquire as to the ME’s over-the-top joyful demeanor, but before he could utter a word, a familiar voice was bellowing his name.

“DiNozzo!”

He shifted his backpack from his left to his right shoulder and offered his friend an apologetic grin. “Seems our discus­sion on the glorious state of this morning will have to wait, Ducky. Somebody’s growling for me.”

Ducky reached out and patted him on the arm. “Come and see me sometime today. Gerald was quite eloquent when he phoned me last night, but I would really like to hear your side of the story, so to speak.”

“ **DiNozzo**!”

Tony flipped Jethro the bird and grinned cheekily when the man turned away in a huff of anger. “It’ll have to be sometime in the afternoon, though. Gerald’s got dibs on my lunch hour.”

“Of course, and so he should have. He **is** your lover now.”

Tony touched the medallion hidden beneath his shirt, and the image of Gerald’s face came to mind and infused his heart with a feeling of absolute peace. “Yes, he is, Ducky, and I couldn’t be happier.”

With a wave of his hand, he headed for the elevator but not before he heard the ME’s whispered reply.

“Good for you, my boy. Good for you.”

 

 


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony is on the trail of Marine Gunnery Sergeant, Bill Atlas and we all know what happens in that particular episode! (Episode S1, E12 -- Missing)

 

 

 

Tony silently slipped inside Gerald’s apartment and grinned when he entered the bedroom and discovered his lover snoring loud enough to beat the band. “Better add earplugs to the next grocery list,” he whispered. Taking a seat on the bed, he observed Gerald while meditating on the thoughts he had been wrestling with on his way over.

The past two weeks had been just a little bit rough at work for him. Since his return to the office, he had felt like he was under constant surveillance. Not only had Jethro been watching his every move, but Kate and Abby had also been checking him out a little more often than usual. Of course, that could be due to the fact that he was wearing the new outfits Gerald had bought him while on vacation. The two of them had discovered an outlet mall while scouting the region surrounding Mr. Solo’s cabin, and Gerald had gone slightly crazy refitting them both with brand new wardrobes.

Tony looked down at the wrinkled clothes he had been living in for the past twenty-four hours. Nah, that couldn’t be it. Kate had burst that particular bubble yesterday morning when she quite gleefully informed him that what he was wearing had gone out of style years ago.

“And here I was thinking I looked super cool. Hmph!”

Suddenly catching a whiff of the offending odor emanating from his shirt, he removed the stinky smelling garment and tossed it on the floor. A mischievous smile spread across his face as he rolled off the bed and strolled over to Gerald’s closet, snagging a shirt that was an identical match to the one he had just discarded. Gerald had liked the white-checkered shirt so much, he had bought one for himself; and because they were almost the same in size, Tony had no problem whatsoever borrowing his lover’s clothes. Besides, wearing something of Gerald’s could only bring him luck, right?

Making his way back to the bed, he adjusted the cuffs on the shirt’s slightly longer sleeves. “If Sacco had gotten wind of that smell, he woulda known for sure he was being tailed.” Deciding to get comfortable while waiting for his lover to wake, he carefully stretched out on the bed and leaned over to briefly nuzzle the nest of soft hair of Gerald’s right underarm before resuming his pondering.

Yeah, the girls had been giving him the eye, but it wasn’t them he was concerned about—he could handle Kate and Abby any day of the week. Nope, it was Jethro who had him sitting on pins and needles.

Things had been hopping from the moment they had started investigating the disappearance of Marine Gunnery Sergeant Bill Atlas. The search for the missing explosive ordi­nance technician had kept everyone at their desks overnight. Even Jethro had refused to go home, and this had greatly unnerved him. It seemed that every time he’d looked up, he’d found his boss watching him, and it wasn’t the usual Gibbs glare he was familiar with. This was something different, a look, an emotion he really couldn’t put his finger on, and if he hadn’t known better, he would have sworn Jethro still had strong feelings for him. **That** look was driving him crazy, and for the life of him, he just couldn’t figure out what it meant.

Gazing at Gerald’s relaxed features, his mind unexpectedly clicked on the answer. The expression that Jethro wore was the same one that Gerald had been wearing before they had hooked up together as a couple. ‘Hopeless longing’ is how he had come to describe it then, but wasn’t sure if the same description applied to the look Jethro was now throwing in his direction. Jethro had made it abundantly clear that Rule Twelve would never again be breached, and if that was so, then the way he was staring at him couldn’t possibly be what he thought it was. Unless—

Tony closed his eyes and applied pressure to his throbbing temples. His thoughts were screwing with his heart, and if he wasn’t careful, he was going to be right back at square one in regards to Jethro—and that was **not** the place he wanted to be. He was with Gerald now and had no plans to go chasing after something that didn’t exist, even if that something was staring him straight in the face every damn time he looked around. Jethro would just have to—

“Hey.”

A drowsy, heavy-lidded gaze greeted him, and he sighed when Gerald sank his hand in his hair and pulled him forward so that he could offer him a good morning kiss that nearly melted the silk boxer briefs right off his ass. Licking his lips, he scooted closer and slid both his arms around Gerald’s waist, delighting in the naked warmth of his lover’s skin.

“That mouth of yours is downright lethal,” he declared before risking his life with a second heart-stopping kiss. Breathless and horny as hell, he groaned while reluctantly pulling away and sternly reminding himself why he was there in the first place. “Not gonna be able to take you to therapy today, G-man. Gibbs has me tailin’ a suspect.”

Gerald was instantly wide-eyed and alert. “You’ll need backup. Give me a sec to get dressed, and I’ll go with you.” Sitting straight up so that his covers pooled around his waist, Gerald reached for the robe lying at the end of the bed and was slipping it on when Tony gently stilled his hands.

“Thanks for the offer, and as much as I’d like to have you along, we both know it’s against regs.”

Before he could say another word, he found himself rolled over on his back and blanketed by his lover’s form. His arms automatically circled Gerald’s lean waist, and his hips rose slightly off the bed in order to welcome the thick, long shaft gliding into place to rest next to his own

“Get Kate to ride with you,” Gerald instructed as he unbuttoned his shirt and located the Saint Christopher medallion nestled in his chest hair. Clutching the medal, Gerald gazed up at him with concerned eyes. “Better yet, get Gibbs to go with you. I **know** he’ll keep you safe.”

“It’s a simple watch-and-follow assignment. I think I can handle it on my own.”

“Promise me you won’t take any chances.” Gerald lowered his head and rested it over his heart. “We just got together, Slick, and if something should happen to you because you were trying to be the big hero all on your own, I—”

Tony pressed his fingers to Gerald’s lips. “It’s just surveillance, G-man. Don’t go getting all emotional about it.”

Gerald abruptly slid off him and took a seat on the edge of the bed, hiding his face from Tony. “Sorry,” he mumbled. “It’s just that I….”

Tony followed after his lover, sliding in behind him so that Gerald’s back rested against his chest. “I know,” he whis­pered. “Same here.”

After a few minutes of cuddling, Gerald asked, “What’s this?” Pulling free of the embrace, he bent over and scooped up the dirty shirt discarded on the floor. “This isn’t mine,” he stated after a quick glance at the shirt’s tag.

“Hope you don’t mind, but I borrowed yours.” Reclaiming his lover and hugging him close, Tony kissed the back of Gerald’s neck before lightly nipping at the man’s dark skin with his teeth. “Didn’t want to go all the way back home to get a clean shirt.”

Gerald twisted around and captured his mouth with a kiss that soon had both of them shivering and panting for air. “Make sure you bring it back in one piece. Okay?”

Tony cupped the sides of Gerald’s face and touched their foreheads together. He knew what Gerald meant, and no way in hell would he do anything to jeopardize their future. “I will,” he promised huskily. “I’ll even wash the darn thing before I bring it back.”

His eyes dark with worry, Gerald shook his head and smiled. “I’ve seen how you do laundry, Slick. Bring it back, and **I’ll** wash it.”

“It’s a deal, G-man.” He lowered his hands to Gerald’s waist and guided him back down on the bed. Kicking off his shoes, he straddled his lover’s waist and rocked against him in a very suggestive manner. “Jethro ordered me to check in with him every hour and,” he glanced at his watch, “I’ve got 27 minutes before I need to call in. Wanna see if we have time to set your sheets on fire?”

He made his first call to Jethro with thirty seconds to spare.

 

 

 

Jethro sat in the darkened stairwell just outside the autopsy room and stared at the bagged evidence he held in his hand. Inside the clear plastic bag was DiNozzo’s cellphone, and he had a death grip on it.

“Please,” he begged the darkness. “Please give him back to me.” Burying his head in his hands, he hoarsely repeated his simple request to whatever deity was listening. “ **Please** give him back to me.”

Tony was missing, kidnapped by a serial killer, and the last words he had uttered were seared on Jethro’s memory.

“I think I screwed up, Boss.”

 _No, Tony. You didn’t screw up_ , he thought as he fought against the anguish swamping his heart. _I did. I was the one who screwed up everything. Me and my damn rules._

**_Let it go, Roy._ **

He glanced over his shoulder and stopped breathing when his gaze connected with the emerald eyes of his deceased lover. “Cam,” he whispered in disbelief.

**_You gotta let go of the guilt._ **

“I can’t.”

He hung his head and almost jumped out of his skin when he felt strong arms from his past embracing him. “Cam, you don’t understand.”

**_Yes, I do. I was your lover for nearly five years. I know how that twisted mind of yours works._ **

Still gripping Tony’s phone, he curled in on himself and let the tears slip free. “You’re dead because of me, because I forgot the rules.”

**_Stop it, Roy. Stop using my death as an excuse to hold everyone at arm’s length._ **

Ghostly lips tenderly touched his damp cheek, and he closed his eyes in an attempt to recapture the caress that had cherished him every day of those years he had shared with David. “God, I miss you, Cam.”

**_Ditto, babe._ **

Scrubbing his eyes dry, Jethro straightened and focused his attention on the cellphone he was holding. “I love him, Cam. I truly do, but….”

**_Then why in the hell did you kick him out of your bed? That boy was head over heels in love with you._ **

“ ‘Was’, Cam. The operative word is ‘was’.”

**_Are you sure about that?_ **

He touched Tony’s cellphone to his lips before answering his dead lover. “He’s found someone else.”

**_Then maybe it’s time to contemplate another three­some._ **

Stunned, Jethro caught himself looking over his shoulder at David. “Have you lost your fucking mind? Or have you forgotten what happened the last time I slipped under the sheets with two men?”

**_What I remember is you being fucked north and south and loving every minute of it._ **

Familiar laughter teased his ears, and he fought hard to tamp down the rare smile that rose to his lips. “Do you think Tony and Gerald would…?” He snapped his mouth shut, unwilling to voice the dream he had been tormented by for the past few weeks.

**_Won’t know ‘til you ask._ **

“Cam, would you…?” He tilted his head to the side and sighed longingly when David’s mouth mapped the side of his neck.

**_Go for it, babe. Whether you believe it or not, you deserve to be loved._ **

Shutting his eyes once more, he reached for the man he had loved with his entire heart, and thought he heard David moan his name when he felt the ghostly form of his former lover slide into his arms. Before he could savour one last kiss, David faded into the shadows.

“Cam?”

**_Be happy, Roy._ **

With those words echoing in his mind, Jethro rose to his feet in the same instant his cellphone rang. “Give me something I can work with, Kate.” 

 

 

Relieved to be free at last not only from his ordeal but also from the required debriefing, Tony charged up the stairs of the parking garage, anxious to return home to his lover. He stunk to high heaven and was dirty as hell, but all he could think about was launching himself at Gerald and making love until they both dropped from exhaustion. His enforced captivity with Atlas had taught him one thing—never take anything for granted, especially those you loved.

He reached the top of the stairs and was hit with the over­whelming need to hear Gerald’s voice. Reaching for his cell­phone, he cursed aloud when he realized it must still be locked up in evidence. He was on his way back down when he ran into his boss. “Gibbs, can I borrow your cell. I want to call… umph!”

Slammed into the wall behind him, he found his mouth invaded by Jethro’s tongue and kissed until he was starving for air. It took his brain countless seconds to comprehend what was happening, and by the time it did, he was staring into Jethro’s startlingly blue eyes and totally shocked by the raw desire he glimpsed in them.

“Boss, what the hell do you…?”

Jethro slid hands into his dishevelled hair and grasped the soft strands before moving in for another kiss, this time gently touching his mouth to Tony’s and effectively stalling all further protests. “Tony, you’re safe. You’re safe,” he whispered repeatedly.

The tenderness with which Jethro claimed his lips was more than he could resist, and he yielded to the sensual kiss, opening his mouth wider and moaning when Jethro’s tongue gently caressed his own before sliding deeper inside.

“Jethro, please don’t. You shouldn’t…” he broke off, biting his bottom lip in confusion and tasting the forbidden flavor he had hungered so long to taste. “Shit, Jethro! Please… I mean… don’t torture me like this.”

Jethro’s answer was to brush a stray lock of hair out his eyes, and suddenly that hand was everywhere on his body, mapping his throat, gripping his hip, sliding beneath his shirt to discover nipples that were craving the rough caresses being offered to them. Air hissed through his teeth at that touch, and he had the uncontrollable urge to rip open his shirt so that he could watch Jethro torment his flesh.

“You’re safe. Safe here with me.”

Jethro’s words were carried on a breath of hot air that slid across his cheek and into his ear, and Tony could only respond with an inarticulate moan. Startled by his body’s reaction to the unexpected assault, he felt his knees nearly buckle when Jethro shifted a hand to his waist and expertly flipped open the button on his jeans.

“Jethro,” Tony gasped and shuddered uncontrollably, help­less against the experienced hand that fought its way past all obstacles to wrap itself around his erect shaft.

“Magnificent.”

What little control he had rapidly disintegrated upon hearing Jethro’s husky voice, and he gripped the man’s shoulders in an attempt to push him away. His effort was thwarted when Jethro recaptured his lips with a kiss that simply devastated his mind. Minutes passed as the two of them grappled with each other—Tony desperate to escape the mouth that was shattering all his defences and Jethro adamant in his refusal to let go.

His body was on the verge of collapse when he finally ripped his mouth free and struggled to replenish his non-existent supply of air. “Boss! Wait! You’ve got to… oh **FUCK**!”

Obviously blind and deaf to the fact that they were standing in a public, albeit deserted, stairwell, Tony watched Jethro drop to his knees. “Jethro, you’ve got to ….” Cool air assaulted his groin, alerting him to the hands that were hastily releasing his erection from his pants and under­wear.

“I love you. I need you. I’ve got to….”

Fingers dug into the flesh of his hips and Tony instinctively obeyed the unspoken command. He thrust his hips forward and fed the man his aching organ. Wasting no time, Jethro greedily swallowed the hard, swollen flesh presented to him, sucking the organ so voraciously anyone observing him would have thought he was on the verge of starvation.

Lost in a maelstrom of emotion and with his heart threaten­ing to beat its way out of his chest, Tony was unable to speak, unable to voice another protest. His mind was swirl­ing out of control while his hips flexed back and forth, automati­cally fucking the incredibly hot mouth swallowing him whole. Digging both his hands into Jethro’s shoulders, he yanked him away from his erection, but the moment he glimpsed the lonely hunger in Jethro’s eyes and saw his wet, swollen lips, he groaned and blindly thrust forward, once again surrendering his flesh to the blazing heat that was burning him alive.

After what seemed like hours, he felt his gut twist and spasm, his body powerless against the familiar furor of his orgasm. His mind was deluged with pleasure, lights explod­ing behind his eyes, denying him the sight of Jethro devour­ing the bitter flood of semen that erupted from his straining erection.

“Oh god, Jethro. You’ve… I can’t….”

His legs gave way the second Jethro released him, and he slid down the wall to land squarely on his ass. Looking at his crotch, he giggled hysterically when he saw how his under­wear was bunched under his balls and how the open, gaping material of his pants framed his limp dick. “I’m hallucinating, right? I’m really still back in that sewer, drugged to the gills and imagining all of this.”

Finally putting himself to rights after two failed attempts, he heard rather than saw his boss join him on the cold cement floor, and his heart stumbled in its rhythm when his hand was gathered in a gentle grip and brought to rest in Jethro’s lap. The simple gesture brought into focus the enormity of what had just passed between the two of them.

“Why, Jethro?”

Jethro remained silent for so long, Tony was in the process of pulling his hand free when the man lifted his own shirt and flattened Tony’s hand against his chest, allowing him to feel the thundering beat of his heart.

“I can’t deny how I feel anymore, Tony. I know I shouldn’t; I know you’re with Gerald, but….”

“And just what is it you feel, Boss? And why in the hell are you feeling it **now**?” He was all of a sudden scared of what Jethro was about to say, and he hid his fear behind a hint of sarcasm. “Don’t you think you’re a day late and a dollar short here?”

Beating his head against the wall, he cursed the man sitting beside him. “Damn you, Jethro. Why are you doing this to me? Do you have any idea how fucking hard it was for me when you kicked me out on my ass?”

He turned to look at his supervisor and wrestled his hand free; but instead of moving it away, he shifted it just enough so that he could grip Jethro’s chin. “ **Look at me, damn it!** Tell me, why now? Now that I’m with Gerald?”

He watched Jethro struggle with his emotions but refused to give an inch. After all the shit he had been put through, he deserved the truth. “Talk to me,” he demanded and wasn’t surprised when he was answered with a wall of silence. Believing Jethro would never comply with his request, he was in the process of getting to his feet when his mute companion suddenly spoke.

“A man I loved died because of me, because **I** broke the rules.”

Jethro’s voice dropped to a tormented whisper, and Tony felt his anger instantly evaporate, leaving behind emotions he refused to acknowledge. “Tell me what happened.” Brushing his fingers over Jethro’s cheek, he pleaded softly, “ **Please**. For once in our relationship, talk to me. Tell me what happened.”

“His name was Cameron, and we met a couple of years before Desert Storm.”

Tony listened to the entire story without saying a word; and when Jethro finally fell silent, he leaned back against the wall and stared straight ahead. “Why didn’t you tell me this back in the beginning? Did you think I wouldn’t understand?”

He sighed wearily when Jethro attempted to recapture his hand. “Damn it, Jethro, I was so in love with you, I would have happily resigned my position. Well, not happily; I mean I really do enjoy working here, but that’s because of you. I took this job because of **you**.” Pulling his knees up, he hugged them to his chest. “If you had only told me about Cameron and Ryan, things could have been so different.”

Jethro gave up trying to grab his hand and settled for gripping his nearest knee, the man’s knuckles visibly turning white as the seconds ticked by. “When you went missing,” Jethro whispered hoarsely, “I realized just how empty my life is, and I swore if we found you alive, all of my damn rules would immediately be declared null and void. Rules are just that, rules. They may keep you safe, but they don’t bring you happiness.”

Tony shut his eyes and clenched his hands into fists, fighting back with every fibre of his being the urge to crawl into Jethro’s arms. _Don’t do this to me. Please, Jethro, don’t make me choose._

“Did you hear me, Tony? All rules are officially null and void. I don’t give a damn about Rule Twelve.”

With his heart crumbling into a million pieces, he rose to his feet and stumbled over to the small rectangular cut-out in the cement wall next to the stairwell door. He blindly looked down at the landscape surrounding NCIS headquarters and couldn’t help tensing slightly when Jethro joined him. His upper arms were gripped, holding him in place while Jethro nuzzled the back of his neck.

“Tony?”

Shaken by the uncertain note in Jethro’s voice, he tilted his head to the side and rubbed his cheek against the hand that had moved to his left shoulder. “You see, Boss, that’s the difference between us. I **do** give a damn.” He turned, and the tiniest of sighs escaped him when Jethro dropped his hands and stepped back.

“Are you telling me that you don’t still love me? That you don’t still want… me?” Jethro asked, the shakiness in his voice increasing with each question and finally breaking on the last word.

He skimmed a finger along Jethro’s lower lips and caught the smudge of semen still clinging to the corner of his mouth. “I think you **know** the answer to your second question.”

“What about the first one? What’s your answer to it?”

Suddenly desperate to escape the beseeching look in Jethro’s eyes, he shifted his gaze to the man’s open shirt collar. “Jethro, one of the things I most admire about you is that you’re an honourable man. Please don’t ask me to be anything less.”

“Gerald.”

The defeated way in which Jethro uttered Gerald’s name filled him with great sadness, and without thinking, he found himself sliding his arms around Jethro’s waist so that he could pull him into a comforting embrace. “Gerald’s been my savior through all of this, and I’ve fallen in love with him. Don’t ask me to turn my back on his love just because you’ve decided to throw the rules out the window. I can’t do that to him.”

“But Tony, you love me. You told me you love me, and I thought, I hoped—”

“Stop it right there.”

Realizing he would never make his case as long as he was holding Jethro in his arms, he released his hold and took several steps back. “What would you have done if Ryan had asked you to leave Cameron?”

Jethro, who had moved to the stairs and was staring down at the level below him, snapped his head around and stared at him. “That’s hitting below the belt, DiNozzo.”

“Hate to belabor the point, but isn’t that what you just did to me? Hit me below the belt, suckered me into giving you something you no longer had any right to?”

Jethro held his silence but not his gaze. The man’s eyes dropped immediately to the floor, and Tony could have sworn he saw a trace of shame in Jethro’s blue eyes.

“You didn’t answer my question,” he persisted. “What would you have done if Ryan had asked you to leave Cameron?”

“Never had to make that choice,” Jethro said through gritted teeth. “Cameron died, remember?”

Jethro took a step in his direction, but halted when he retreated further into the shadows, and his simple act of rejection pulled a sound of such pain from the older man that he knew he would never forget it. “Jethro?”

Clearly struggling to remain in control of his emotions, Jethro wearily ran a hand over his face and through his greying hair, taking several deep breaths before quietly asking, “Would Gerald consider letting an old man join the two of you?” Jethro straightened his jacket before looking him straight in the eye. “I know you love him, and I don’t want to do anything to jeopardize that relationship, but god, Tony, would you at least see if Gerald would be willing?”

Tony took time to catalogue the emotions warring inside him before making the decision that would set his future on a specific path. “Considering how much he loves me and how important my happiness is to him, I’m sure he would, but I’ll never ask him to do so.”

Entering the light so that Jethro could clearly see his face, he gently touched the man’s heaving chest and spoke in a calm voice, “As much as I care for you, Jethro, my heart can only love one person at a time, and right now that person is Gerald. He’s the one I’ve committed myself to.”

Eyes glittering with uncharacteristic moisture, Jethro moved into his personal space and stroked his jaw with utmost tenderness. Tony couldn’t help but close his eyes, and his resolve threatened to crumble when a moan of undiluted anguish escaped Jethro’s lips. When Jethro pulled him into his arms and began kissing his eyes and cheeks, he felt his heart break again.

“Jethro,” he begged, “Please don’t.”

Jethro ignored his plea and further tortured him by slowly moving his mouth down his throat and tasting the flushed skin just above his collar as words of need and desperation spilled out him.

“Love me, Tony. Let me in your life. I’ll be whatever kind of lover you want, whatever kind of lover Gerald will allow me to be. Tony, please.”

“Jethro, don’t!” Tony jerked his head away, severing their connection with a cry of protest.

Laboring for air, Jethro stumbled backwards and grasped the railing behind him. Eyes locked on each other, seconds passed as they both struggled to gather themselves, and surprisingly Jethro was the first to speak.

“Can you… can you actually deny what you’re feeling for me right now?”

Tony braced himself against the wall opposite Jethro and tried to keep his rubbery knees from dropping him on his butt. “I’m gonna be honest, Boss,” he gasped. “That kiss damn near knocked me off my feet, but it’s not gonna change my mind. I love Gerald. I’m with Gerald, and until **he** decides otherwise, that is exactly where my heart will remain. With Gerald.” Wishing only to soften his refusal, he reached for Jethro.

Jethro bowed his head in acceptance but declined to acknowledge the trembling hand held out to him. “If you ever change your mind… if Gerald ever….”

Tony choked back the words that rose to his lips. He wanted so badly to offer Jethro a glimpse of hope, but knew he couldn’t torture him with the prospect of a relationship that might never come to be. “You know, Boss, I’ve been with NCIS over two years now. Maybe it’s time for me to move on.”

“No!”

The objection was immediate and loud and caught the attention of the two people climbing the stairs.

“Jethro? Is that you?” Ducky called out.

Jethro moved quickly to his side and gripped his face. “Don’t leave, Tony. Stay. The team needs you. I—”

“Jethro! Just the man I was looking for. Napoleon and I were wondering if you’d care to join us for supper tonight.” Unaware of the undercurrents or wisely overlooking them, Ducky collected Jethro by the arm and guided him out of the stairwell, leaving a concerned Abby to follow behind.

Ignoring the anxious glances cast in his direction by his two friends, Tony kept his gaze trained on Jethro until he was gone from sight, and it was only then that he released the breath he wasn’t aware he had kept trapped within his chest. Tears soon followed when the heartbreaking reality of his loss punched him in the gut and left him doubled over in pain. Nearly a quarter of an hour passed before the agony subsided and he was able to straighten up. Dashing the tears from his eyes with one hand, he grabbed for the door, but hesitated when he saw that his friends were standing next to his parking space.

The sight of Jethro’s dejected posture brought back the pain, and he carefully closed the door. Leaning his forehead against its scarred metal surface, he whispered, “I love you, Jethro. Always have, always will.”

He stood motionless for the better part of a minute before shaking himself free of his thoughts and heading back down the stairs. Bumping into Kate upon entering the office elevator, he asked, “Hey, Kate. You wouldn’t happen to know if Director Morrow is still in the building?”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just to let you know, the end is approaching quickly! One more chapter and then the epilogue.


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony has to answer for his actions.

 

“Tony?”

“Out here.”

He dashed at the tears that still dampened his cheeks, erasing the evidence of his mental state. There was no use stressing Gerald out any more than necessary, and his recent kidnapping had already done that in a major way. His lover had literally clung to him for the first twenty-four hours, and even now, two days down the road, Gerald was still having trouble letting him out of his sight. He knew without a doubt that the news of his run-in with Gibbs would surely tip Gerald over the edge and he’d have more to worry about than his lover’s mother hen behavior.

 _Or should that be father rooster?_ he thought with a hysterical snort. _Nah, that’s not it. Father, father… what was the name of that Gary Grant movie? Father Goose? Yeah, that’s it. Gerald’s becoming a Father Goose._

“Damn, it’s nearly nine o’clock and still hot as hell out here.”

Lost in his thoughts, he startled slightly when Gerald sat down and embraced him. It was a tight squeeze, and they both waited with bated breath, certain the liberated garage-sale loveseat they were sitting on would collapse under their combined weight. Much to their astonishment, it held strong, despite the creaking sounds of protest it made.

“You do realize,” Gerald whispered, wasting no time in putting teeth to work, nipping and tugging on his nearest earlobe, “that this balcony is the only place we haven’t christened with our manly seed.” Not waiting for a reply, his lover lowered his mouth and commenced his nightly routine of oral tattooing.

 _Thank God for starched collars_. Another hysterical chortle escaped his lips.

“Slick?”

Tony offered Gerald’s forehead a quick kiss before closing his eyes and clutching at the hand that was splayed open on his chest. His emotions were still chaotic, and not wishing to shift Gerald back into beloved protector mode, he silently prayed for peace of mind. His plea was cut short when the image of Jethro’s tormented visage rose up to haunt him, and he jerked open his eyes in an attempt to erase it from his mind. His bruised heart was not yet ready to deal with the memory of his last encounter with the man.

Tilting his head down, he laid a line of kisses along Gerald’s forearm and forced a cheerfulness he did not in any way feel. “I seriously doubt your neighbors would appreciate such a display of our manliness.”

Laughing, Gerald took a final lick and then twisted around so that he was straddling his thighs. “I’ve got my super loose shorts on, Slick,” he informed him with a suggestive waggle of one eyebrow. “They’ll never know a thing if we work it just right.”

Tony buried his face in the crook of Gerald’s neck, hiding his grimace when playful fingers invaded his sweats and wrapped themselves around his shaft. They stroked, they squeezed, they grazed and they tweaked—nothing happened.

Absolutely **nothing** happened.

His dick remained as soft as the day it was formed in the womb, and with a remorseful sigh he apologized to Gerald. “I’m sorry, G-man. Just can’t get it up. Not sure why but—”

“Can’t or won’t? Or is it because I’m not Gibbs?”

Gerald’s questions were totally free of malice, and he could only find the sincerest of concern reflected in his lover’s eyes when he searched them for answers. “Now, you know that’s not the reason why….”

“I spoke with Kate this morning,” Gerald confessed in a soft-spoken voice that was tinged with the barest hint of anger, “and she told me what happened in the parking garage the other day. She saw you and Gibbs together.”

“No way in hell!” Tony sat straight up, nearly dislodging Gerald in the process. “There’s no way she could have seen Gibbs and me.” He mentally scratched his brain. Had Kate been there? He knew Abby and Ducky had stumbled upon them but he sure as hell did not remember seeing Kate. Shit!

“She did. Believe me, she did.”

He watched while Gerald rose unsteadily to his feet and walked to the far edge of the small balcony. His lover picked at the railing’s peeling paint for several seconds before looking over his shoulder at him. “Kate said she walked right up on you, but the two of you were so into each other, you didn’t even know she was there.”

Tormented by the wounded gaze directed at him, Tony scooted to the edge of the loveseat and held out his hand. “I can explain,” he began.

“I don’t **need** for you to explain a thing. Kate did that already,” Gerald sharply interrupted him. Leaving his spot of contemplation, Gerald moved to his side and knelt next to him. “What I **do** need is for you to tell me if you want me out of your life so that you and Gibbs can be together.”

An ardent protest rose to his lips but was halted by the gentle brush of Gerald’s fingers. “I love you, Tony,” Gerald said, “but I can’t continue with this relationship if your heart belongs to someone else. It’s not fair to you and sure as hell not fair to me.”

His knee became a resting place for Gerald’s head, and he trembled when his lover tenderly ran his hand back and forth over his thigh. “Gerald….”

“Let me finish, please,” Gerald insisted.

Tangling his fingers in Gerald’s hair, Tony silently nodded his acquiescence.

“Contrary to what others may believe, I am **not** a saint. I’m incredibly selfish, and I want you entirely for myself, Slick. It’s taken two very long years to get you in my arms, and I’ve always said I’d fight tooth and nail to keep you there. But in light of what happened between you and Gibbs, well, maybe it’s time for you to pack up your gear and move back to your place.”

Tony felt the edges of his world turn to grey, and instinc­tively he started to close his eyes. Fear kept him from doing so—a fear that if he did, Gerald would disappear from his life, and that had to be prevented at all costs.

Moving quickly, he grasped Gerald by the arms and returned him to his former position, that of straddling his thighs and facing him straight on. The hugs, the kisses, the words that followed were all desperate attempts to make the man understand how much he was loved and how much he needed him.

“I don’t know what Kate told you, but that thing with Gibbs, it wasn’t me. I didn’t instigate it, whatsoever. In fact, I was….” He slid his hands from Gerald’s arms to his shoulders and then up his neck. He cupped the sides of Gerald’s face, tenderly stroking the man’s high cheekbones with his thumbs. When he discovered the dark skin was stained with moisture, his own eyes filled with tears. “There was only one thought on my mind once the bigwigs let me go, and that was getting home to you as fast as possible. All I could think about was rushing home, hauling you into my arms and making love until we both passed out from exhaustion.”

He guided Gerald’s face closer to his own and kissed him with incredible tenderness, capturing the cry of anguish Gerald could no longer silence. “You have to believe me, Gerald. Gibbs was not even a blip on my radar that day. My mind was totally focused on you, and I was caught by surprise when he made his move on me.”

“You let him touch you,” Gerald muttered belligerently, and to emphasize his point, he slipped a hand between his legs and squeezed none too gently. “You let him touch **this**.”

“He blindsided me, and by the time my brain caught up with my dick, it was all over.” The pressure on his crotch increased in a major way, pushing him to hurriedly admit, “I know that’s not a forgivable excuse, but it’s all I have to offer you. I let him steal something that rightfully belonged to you. That was wrong, one hundred percent wrong, and I can only pray that you’ll forgive me for being such a brainless ass.”

“You let him touch you. You **fucking** let him touch you!”

“I was wrong, I was wrong, I was wrong!” He touched his forehead to that of Gerald’s. “I don’t know what else to say, G-man. Rip by balls off. Kick my ass.” He shook Gerald by the shoulders. “I’m sorry. I’m so damn sorry.”

He breathed a sigh of relief when after several minutes Gerald removed his hand. “Do you forgive me?”

“I’m obviously an idiot, but …” Gerald took a very deep breath at the same time Tony held his.

“Yes, I forgive you.”

He felt his world right itself and nearly wept when Gerald gently kissed him. “G-man?”

“Gibbs loves you, and you love him,” his lover stated mulishly. “Where do I fit in this equation?”

“I’m not going to dispute your statement. It’s true. I do love Jethro, and yeah, he loves me, but it’s too late.”

Tony wrapped his arms around Gerald’s broad shoulders and hugged him fiercely. “It’s too late because my body, my heart, my soul belongs to you. You’re the man my life is dedicated to, the man my world revolves around now. You, Gerald Jackson, **not** Jethro Gibbs.”

Nosing aside the neckline of the Lakers’ jersey Gerald wore, he nipped along the length of his collarbone, dipping his tongue repeatedly into the hollow at the base of his neck. “And to prove to you just how dedicated I am to us and to our future, I want you to know that I turned down his request to join us. Told Gibbs my heart can only love one man, and that one man is you.”

“Gibbs wanted us to be a threesome?”

Tony nodded. Lifting his head, he discovered an incredulous look on Gerald’s face and couldn’t help but smile. “Believe it or not, Gibbs was in a threesome back in the early 90’s. Hard to picture, huh?”

“And you turned him down?”

He took Gerald’s mouth in an insistent kiss, wanting nothing more than to reassure his lover of his devotion. “Yes,” he whispered once he was finished devouring Gerald’s breathless moan.

“Man, you really do love me.”

Taking a last sip of his lover’s mouth, he let out an exasperated sigh. “Haven’t you been listening to anything I’ve said?”

Distractedly, Gerald rubbed his left shoulder. “But you just admitted you loved the man.”

“I do, but I love you more, way, way more.”

He began to expertly massage his lover’s healing shoulder. “Back at the cabin, you said you’ve always been there for me, and that is absolutely true. No one’s ever loved me as unconditionally as you have. Hell, when I was down in that sewer thinking about us, about possibly never seeing you, holding you or loving you again, it kicked my heart into overdrive, and I finally realized how much I love you and how important you are to me. Never in a million years would I trade what I have with you for Gibbs.”

“But you love him.” Groaning his appreciation for the massage, Gerald dropped his head and rested it on his shoulder.

“But not as much as I love you, G-man.” He lightly touched his lips to the scar that marred his lover’s skin. “And if you had thought to bring some lube with you when you came out on the balcony, I’d prove just how much I love that black ass of yours.”

“I was a Boy Scout, Slick. You know I always come prepared.” Gerald reached into the side pocket of his shorts and pulled out a small tube of lubricant. Tony accepted it, but before he could withdraw his hand, Gerald lifted it to his mouth and gently kissed each knuckle before letting it go. “Make love to me, Anthony,” Gerald beseeched him. “And damn our nosy neighbors.”

The husky sound of Gerald’s voice and the hunger it evoked shot straight to his groin, and he was hot and hard in seconds. Easing down the waistband of his sweats, he slathered lube on his dick. “Tell me your ass is prepped,” he demanded of his lover.

Gerald scooted closer and shoved aside the crotch of his shorts, groaning when his backdoor was expertly breached. “Prepped and ready to ride.”

The muscles of Gerald’s ass easily gave way to a hasty thrust, and both of them panted for air as they frantically searched for the rhythm that would send them into an abyss of oblivion.

Sobbing Gerald’s name as he climaxed, Tony clasped his lover’s sweat-slicked chest to him as both their bodies emptied themselves of the physical proof of their love. He struggled to remember how to breathe, and had just gotten a handle on that particular task when incredibly strong rectal muscles clamped down on his waning erection. He howled so loudly that the lights of the balconies that flanked theirs came on within seconds.

“What the hell is going on out there?”

“Jackson, you better not have a dog over there. I’m telling the Supe if you do.”

Without warning, Tony found himself flat on his back on the cold cement floor with one hundred and ninety pounds attempting to squash him flat. He started to laugh uncontrollably at the absurdity of being caught in the act but stopped when Gerald slapped a hand over his mouth.

“Quiet, you bozo.”

He nipped at Gerald’s palm and responded with an innocent grin when Gerald scowled at him. “I doubt they can see us,” he said once he was allowed to speak. “It’s almost pitch dark, and if you hadn’t noticed, our balcony light is **not** on.”

Gerald glanced up at the unlit light fixture on the wall. “Oh, yeah, right.”

Ignoring whatever the hell it was digging into his left hip, he threw his arms around Gerald’s waist and hugged him tight. “You and me, we’re… you still love me, right, G-man?”

Gerald snuggled closer after laying his head on his shoulder “As I said earlier I’m obviously certifiably nuts, but yeah, yeah, I love you.”

Tony slipped his hands inside Gerald’s shorts and fingered the man’s slick opening. “Are you still agreeable with me transferring to the West coast? I know California’s a hell of a long way away, but if it’s all right with you, I think the more distance I put between us and Gibbs, the better off we’ll be.”

Gentle kisses traveled up his neck, and he was moaning softly by the time they reached his impatiently waiting lips. “I’m okay with moving,” Gerald assured him. “Maybe a new start in a new town will be good for us in more ways than one.”

Tony surrendered to the tongue plundering his mouth and wished with all his might for a miracle. Unfortunately, his body was unwilling to supply him with one, and once again, _Mr. Perfect and the boys_ refused to cooperate, despite Gerald’s expert handling.

“The tank’s empty, I’m afraid,” he admitted with a yawn.

Gerald heaved a forlorn sigh as he tucked his favorite toy away for the night. “I’m doubling the amount of vitamins you’re taking.”

Another yawn caught him, and he wearily closed his eyes. “I knew I forgot something this morning at breakfast.” Sleep was quickly descending upon him when Gerald’s voice teased his ear.

“Tony?”

He brushed at his nose and dislodged the mosquito that was searching for a late night snack. “Yeah?”

“Have you ever been in a threesome?”

“Never been that lucky before. Why?”

“Nothing. Just wondering. That’s all.”

Tired of being Gerald’s full-size body pillow, he rolled the two of them on their sides and yelped when his head came in contact with the balcony railing behind him. “Time to move this inside, G-man. I don’t know about you, but I’m too old to be sleeping on the floor.”

“Wimp.”

“Amen. Give me a sinfully soft bed any day!”

 

 


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jethro gets an unexpected visitor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was to have been the last chapter -slash- epilogue but the muse was inspired to write an additional scene that falls between this section and the epilogue. Sorry that this one is so brief but I'm still working on the new piece and didn't want to go too long without posting.

Jethro carved a name in the wood beam and stared at it for what seemed like an eternity. He traced the grooves of each letter repeatedly, the pain in his heart choking his breath off with every stroke. The relentless ache soon became too much, and with an inarticulate cry, he picked up the sander from the table behind him and began erasing the name that would, no doubt, haunt him for the rest of his life.

 

**_T O N Y_ **

****

“I pretty sure that’s not the solution to your problem.”

The sander jumped in his hands at the sound of Gerald Jackson’s voice, and Jethro frowned at the stain of blood marring the remaining letters. He stuck his thumb in his mouth and glared at the man standing at the bottom of the stairs.

“What are you doing here?” he asked his unexpected visitor. “Better yet, how in the hell did you get in here? Pretty sure the---”

“Door was open, as in wide open.” Jackson grinned. “I closed and locked it, thank you very much.”

Jethro brusquely nodded his thanks. He examined his injured finger for a full sixty seconds before once again acknowledging his visitor. “Shouldn’t you be busy packing for your move to the West coast?”

“Finished, if you must know. We leave in the morning.”

The intensity of the pain in his chest increased tenfold when he realized his time to convince Tony to stay with NCIS—with him—had run out. _See, Cam? You were wrong. I **don’t** deserve to be loved. _

He dropped the sander and reached for the bottle of whis­key he kept on his worktable. He ignored the coffee cup he normally used, electing to drink straight from the bottle. “If you’re here to gloat, it’s a waste of time. The best man won, and that person was you.” He tipped the bottle in Gerald’s direction. “I may be what Tony wants, but you’re what he needs. Hope you realize that.”

He was caught off guard when Gerald stepped forward and took the bottle of whiskey from him. The man helped himself to a healthy swallow before handing it back. “I know exactly what Tony needs, but I’m not sure if I’m ready to give it to him yet.”

Having been cheated of sleep for several days running, Jethro wasn’t sure if he had heard Gerald correctly. “What the hell are you talking about?”

His uninvited guest merely raised an eyebrow before walk­ing over to the boat he was building by hand. The man studied the remaining letters of Tony’s name and, mimicking his earlier move, slowly traced their outline with a single finger.

“How long before you finish this?” After a final caress of the marred wood, Gerald turned back toward him and pinned him with an unreadable gaze. “A year? Two?”

“What’s it to you?”

Jethro set the whiskey bottle back down on his worktable and reclaimed the sander. “It’ll be finished when it’s finished and not one day earlier.” He set the sander against the beam and finished the job of removing the last two letters of Tony’s name. A curse rose to his lips when something hard hit him in the back. “What the fuck?”

Looking over his shoulder, he saw Gerald holding several pieces of scrap wood in his right hand. With a glare that could intimidate the most hardened Marine, Jethro demanded, “Look, if you’ve got something to say, spit it out and get the hell out of here. I’ve got things to do.”

Gerald dropped his arsenal of wooden missiles and walked straight toward him, not stopping until only a finger’s breadth separated them. Never one to give an inch, Jethro stood his ground and waited for the younger man to speak. Once again, he was subjected to Gerald’s inscrutable gaze, and this time he felt as if the man was seeing straight through to his heart.

The minutes crawled by while Gerald continued to examine him, but finally he took a step back, and Jethro couldn’t help but feel a sense of relief when he saw the small smile that briefly touched Gerald’s full lips. Before he could inquire as to the reason for the scrutiny, he was blindsided by an image of Gerald and Tony embracing him, and it caused him to stumble backwards. “Just what game are you playing here, Jackson?”

Gerald readjusted the sling cradling his left arm. “You and I, we both want the same thing, Tony’s love. You had it but rejected it because of your past. I’ve got it now but at what cost? Tony loves you, **and** he loves me. And as much as I hate to admit this, our relationship doesn’t stand a snowball’s chance in hell of surviving as long as he has feelings for you.”

“Just what do you want me to do about that? I’m **not** a damn marriage counsellor.”

Dropping the sander on the cluttered workbench, Jethro turned and faced the skeleton of his boat, placing his hand over the spot he had just sanded smooth. Confusion reigned supreme in his mind and his heart, and it was slowly stirring his anger to life. “Unless I’ve developed a sudden form of senility, I seem to remember that Tony’s made his choice already. And it’s not me. Case closed.”

He gasped when Gerald unexpectedly stepped up behind him and wrapped an arm around his waist. The man then touched lips to the nape of his neck causing a shiver to chase down his spine. “What’s wrong, Jackson? One man’s not enough for you?”

“Actually, one man’s not enough for Tony. I was just trying to figure out why.”

“And have you?” Jethro choked out, raising both hands and gripping the wood beam directly in front of him. He tight­ened his grip until his nails were digging into the wood, preventing him from turning around and belting Gerald in the mouth.

Finally Gerald’s hand shifted north and opened over his heart. Jethro knew full well the man could feel his thundering heartbeat and he growled warningly, “Jackson.”

Gerald removed his hand, but before Jethro could turn around, a yellow Post It note was shoved in front of his face. “This is my sister’s phone number. Call it when you’re ready to launch your boat.”

He took the scrap of paper. “And just **why** should I do that?”

“I don’t know shit about boat construction,” Gerald admit­ted, “but I’m guessing you have at least another year before this lady’s seaworthy.”

Jethro thought for a moment and then nodded his head. “At least a year. Why?”

Gerald lightly touched him on the shoulder. “I figure in a year I’ll be able to share Tony with you.”

Jethro swore he felt his jaw hit the floor. Had he heard right? Was Jackson offering him a chance to be with Tony? Was he actually considering a relationship that would, in time, include him? Shit!

 **Snapping** his mouth shut, he turned around and faced Gerald. “You better not be jerking my chain, Jackson.”

“Give me one year with Tony, Gibbs. That’s all I ask.” The man pointed a finger at him and reiterated his demand. “One year, Gibbs. Absolutely no contact. No phone calls. No emails. Nothing. Do I have your word on this?”

The answer came without thought. “Yes.” He grabbed Gerald by the arm and stopped him from leaving. “Are you sure about this? Tony turned down my suggestion of a threesome. Why do you think he’ll change his mind in a year?”

He frowned when he saw the enigmatic smile that spread across Gerald’s face. “You leave that up to me,” the younger man said with the utmost assurance.

“Why do I have the sudden feeling that I’ve just lost total control of my life?” He felt the pain in his heart dissipate completely at the sound of Gerald’s joyous laughter.

“See you in a year, Gibbs.”

Shaking his head in amazement, he watched his visitor walk away. He stared after the man for several minutes, and only tore his gaze away from the open door when the ghostly sensation of lips nuzzling his jaw caught his attention.

**_Told ya._ **

“You were right, Cam.”

**_Tell me something I don’t know._ **

His laughter boomed out. “Asshole.” Picking up a ham­mer, he nailed the scrap of paper Gerald had given him to the bow of his boat. “A year, Cam, can you believe it?”

**_Better get your butt in gear then._ **

Familiar hands squeezed his ass, and Jethro laughed again when his tired body hummed excitedly with a new energy.

Life was good. Hell, life was great! And in one year, it was going to get even better.

 


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eleven months, three weeks, two days and twenty-one hours have passed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This scene is brand new, was never part of the published novella.

 

Tony wiggled his toes until they were completely buried in the sand. It would soon be dark but the sand still held enough heat to keep his tootsies from getting cold. He checked for Gerald and found him paddling out for what he hoped was the last wave of the day.

A chuckle escaped him when he recalled the day Gerald came home from work expounding on the virtues of his new BFF. Mick Burrow was the man’s name and according to Gerald, was the reincarnation of _Point_ _Break_ ’s, Bohdi. Mick had worked his magic on his lover, and it now seemed that every one of their free weekends was dedicated to _communing_ with the waves.

Of course, Gerald had insisted he also embrace this new sport and he had, despite his never-ending protests that he was the Keanu Reeves character, and his time was better spent chasing down criminals. With every argument, every protest, Gerald had merely rolled his eyes before reminding him of the nearly naked state in which they and their new friends would spend surfing. Bare chests, washboard abs, saturated boardshorts riding low on the hips and outlining asses that inspired all dicks and chicks within a five mile radius to salute in appreciation.

Closing his eyes, he replayed the months’ worth of images he had of Gerald rising from the water as he made his way to the shore. Water streaming off his man’s broad shoulders, the droplets of moisture sliding down his chest and clinging to his nipples -- the soaked boardshorts that left nothing, NOTHING, to the imagination. It was no wonder he couldn’t stick his stance on the board those first few weeks; _Mr. Perfect_ ’s constant state of arousal kept throwing off his balance.

Tony glanced at the board lying on the sand beside him and snorted. If his friends could see him now. Abby would want video and would watch said video a million times, at least. Kate would be right beside her, critiquing his every move. In the background Tim would be spouting some inane statistic regarding surfing injuries and the Duckman would be offering up a relevant story from his past that no one would listen to. Now Gibbs ---

With a sigh of longing that would not be denied, he looked up at the sky and allowed his gaze to chase after a cloud that was lazily gliding toward the east.

“Eleven months, three weeks, two days and . . .” He checked his diver’s watch. “. . . 21 hours.” Hanging his head, he rubbed at the disturbing ache in his chest that had recently begun to surface every time he thought of Jethro. “Pathetic, that’s what I am. Fucking pathetic. To be thinking of him when I’ve got all of this.” He threw open his arms, indicating the long stretch of beach, the hue drenched sky that announced the end to another perfect day . . . the abso-fucking-lutely gorgeous man who was currently chasing another wave like he was one with the ocean.

Life was good, he couldn’t deny it. He was working out of the San Diego office and had meshed well with his new team. Gerald was busy pursuing a bachelor’s degree in Forensic Technology at the nearby ITT Technical Institute while working nights at one of the local hospitals.

Their lives were busy, no two ways about it. They were busy with work, school and play. He once again glanced out at the ocean and discovered Gerald paddling away from the beach. To be honest, there wasn’t a day when he and his lover weren’t involved in some sort of activity.

“And maybe that’s the crux of the situation,” he muttered. “Maybe we’re **too** busy. Too busy doing stuff with not enough . . .” He performed the air quote motion. “ . . . _alone_ _time_ , just you and me, kicking back, doing absolutely nothing but sleeping in, watching some old movie and making love until we pass out from exhaustion.”

He kept his eyes focused on Gerald while chewing worrisomely on his lower lip. Every weekend for the past month his lover had been talking to Ducky on the phone. The call was usually late at night and lasted for several hours. **AND** was supposedly being done without his knowledge.

What his lover didn’t know or didn’t realize was that he had become so accustomed to sleeping with him at his side that he woke the second Gerald slid out of bed. Another thing his lover had yet to discover was that he, Anthony DiNozzo, Agent Extraordinaire, could sneak with the best of them.

Tony flopped back down on the sand and stared at the sky. His skill of concealment had netted him one thing and one thing only.

Soul-crushing heartache.

“Fuck.”

Gerald was talking to Ducky about returning home.

“Fuck, fuck and FUCK.”

Why was Gerald considering returning to D.C.?

Tony scrubbed his hands over his face and tugged hard on the salt-crusted strands of his hair. The moment he had heard Gerald put forth the idea of returning home to Ducky he had returned to their bed and refused to listen to any further conversations between his lover and his friend. His insecure heart couldn’t handle the thought of Gerald leaving him.

“Why, G-man? Aren’t you happy here? Aren’t you happy here with **me**?”

Closing his eyes, he pinched the bridge of his nose and desperately tried to fathom the reason for Gerald’s defection. What had he done? What asinine thing had he done or said to make Gerald want to leave him?

And yeah, it was so his fault. No doubt about it.

It. Was. **HIS**. Fault.

He chewed on his lip until it bled, racking his brain for the answer. Was it his feelings for Gibbs? Gerald knew he had feelings for the man. Before they’d left for California, he had truthfully admitted that Gibbs would always own a small corner of his heart.

“BUT THAT DOESN’T MEAN I DON’T LOVE GERALD!” he shouted at the sky and anyone else within hearing distance.

Tony slammed his fists against the sand and forced back the tears that threatened. He loved Gerald. Couldn’t imagine his life without him. That man was his world.

Then why? Why was Gerald talking to Ducky about leaving?

A shower of sand greeted Gerald’s return and the second his lover was sprawled on the ground beside him, Tony was straddling his hips and nailing his arms in place. He devoured the startled sound of his name that came from Gerald’s mouth. Hell, he just about sucked all the oxygen from his lover’s lungs in his attempt to reassure Gerald of his complete and utter devotion and eternal love. He needed to put to use all that romantic crap he’d learned from all those years of watching rom/com movies.

“I love you. I’ll always love you.” He looked around frantically and his gaze zeroed in on their boards. “If I wasn’t pretty sure the two of us would drown while attempting it, I’d haul our asses out there and fuck you blind while sitting on our boards watching the sun set.”

Hands framed his face for a moment before sliding down and capturing his shoulders in an attempt to lessen his agitation.

“Talk to me, Slick. What’s wrong? What’s got you all stirred up?”

“Marry me, Gerald. Marry, commit, pledge eternity . . . whatever the hell it is gay couples do. I can’t lose you. Can’t give you up. You’re mine, Gerald Jackson. You hear that. You’re mine and I sure as hell will not allow you to leave me. Not now, not ev . . . Umph!”

Tony found himself flat on his back with the wind completely knocked out of him. Gerald had expertly flipped him and was using all of his sexy 182 pounds to hold him in place.

“What the **fuck** is wrong with you?! Have you been inhaling that new wax Burrow insisted we use on our boards?”

Realizing he could move the lower portion of his arms, Tony gripped Gerald by the waist and shook him. “Are you leaving me? Why are you leaving me? Why? Why? You gotta tell me, G-man. I can’t handle not knowing. It’s killing me. It’s . . . oh shit, I can’t breathe. See . . . I told you . . . can’t . . . Gerald!”

Cursing under his breath, Gerald yanked him off the ground and into his arms. Human steel bands of muscle and bone held him in place until his tears stopped, his lungs quit hyperventilating, and his frantically beating heart slowed to a speed that was significantly less than warp nine.

“I’m not leaving you. Do you hear me, Tony? I’m **not** leaving you,” was whispered in his ear. The words were followed by tender kisses to his lashes, his nose, along his jaw and down his neck. Teeth marked his darkly tanned shoulders and biceps. “Are you listening? I’m not leaving you.”

More kisses, more words of assurance and finally Tony took a deep breath and . . . believed.

The night sky was filling with stars by the time the two of them stirred from where they sat on the beach. Gerald held him in place with one hand while using the other to card fingers through the tangled strands of his hair.

“Wanna tell me why you thought I was leaving you?”

Without saying a word, Tony rose to his feet and walked to the water’s edge. Gerald followed and gently embraced him upon reaching his side.

“Slick?”

“I heard you talking to Ducky. I heard you quizzing him about returning home.”

A familiar sigh, one that warned him of his lover’s frustration, serenaded the night.

“Ah, Slick.”

More kisses that promised years of love were shared with him until the tears threatened again. Damn, he was getting sappy in his old age.

“Let’s go home, Tony," Gerald instructed. "Genevieve called yesterday with some news you need to hear.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Friends, please know that I am reading each and every comment posted. Major hugs of gratitude for them. I rarely reply because honestly, I don't know what to say. A mere 'thank you' seems so lacking in appreciation. Each comment is treasured and it's because of those comments that this extra scene was written -- a gift to you, the readers who take a moment of their precious time to comment.
> 
> Enjoy!


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is it, Friends! The end! 
> 
> Now, I’m not saying I won’t visit this universe again ‘cause I’m thinking it would be fun to peek in on the three men and see how they’re handling their unique relationship. I mean . . . we’re talking Jethro -- his bastardness alone will, no doubt, wreak havoc on Tony and Gerald’s relationship. And I’m pretty sure Gerald will not hesitate to put Jethro in his place if he does anything that will, pardon the pun, rock the boat! Ah, the ideas, the ideas, the ideas!!!!
> 
> Again, many, many, MANY hugs of appreciation to all who have stopped by to read this. Your comments, the kudos, hell, even the number of hits enthused me so much I’ve actually started writing again. (which in case you didn’t know it, I haven’t put ‘pen to paper’ in over a decade!) So, yes, THANK YOU SO VERY MUCH!

 

“Jethro? Do my eyes deceive me, or is that who I think it is?”

Squinting against the brightness of the early morning sun, Jethro looked up from where he was stowing away a rope. He immediately spied the tall man standing on the dock. “Well, I’ll be damned. Jackson kept his promise after all.” Slipping on his shades, he swiftly brushed past Ducky and jumped agilely from his boat to the dock. “Good to see you, DiNozzo. Where’s Jackson?”

The same brash smile that still haunted his dreams at night greeted him warmly, and it was as if the past year had just melted away, and he was back at D’Angelo’s kissing the hell out Tony. The same reactions bombarded his mind and his body, and he had to fight down the hunger that surged to life in his gut.

“Gerald’s parking the car.” Tony glanced at the name painted on the boat’s aft section and chuckled. “The _Java Mist_? Really now, Boss. Haven’t you had enough coffee over the years?”

“You can never have too much coffee, DiNozzo.”

Jethro felt his heart lurch at the sound of Tony’s laughter, and he took advantage of the moment to quietly observe the man who had come into his life nearly four years earlier. The smile, the voice—they were the same. The face had lost some of its boyish qualities and was now leaner, honestly stamped with a maturity that had not been there before. He took a step closer and, raising his shades, looked deeply into Tony’s eyes, and it was there that he saw the evidence of the man’s love for him. It took his breath away.

“God, I’ve missed you, DiNozzo.”

“Same here, Boss. Good thing you finally finished that damn boat of yours.”

Jethro moved first and gripped Tony by his arms. “Is Jackson still okay with this? With us getting together?” He reached up and traced one finger down Tony’s cheek, skimming lightly over the trim moustache and goatee that framed his smiling mouth. “I won’t lie to you. This last year’s been hell, but I’ll wait ten more if Jackson feels he needs additional time with you.”

“His name is Gerald.” A twinkle of mischievousness appeared in Tony’s hazel eyes just before he nipped the finger tracing his bottom lip. “Gerald’s a man of his word, Boss. You called, we’re here.”

“Are you sure? Is Jackson . . . shit! . . . Is Gerald really ready to share you? Is he really ready to welcome an old dog, an old stubborn bastard into your lives?”

Tony answered without hesitation, melting into the arms that opened to embrace him. “Into our lives and into our hearts, Jethro. If that’s still your wish.”

“Hell, yes. Fuck, yes.”

Their mouths met in a kiss that was deep and honest and filled with a passion that the passage of time could not extinguish. Neither man shut his eyes, both watching each other as the sheltering cloak of the past year slipped away and allowed the fire of their love to once again warm their souls and their hearts.

“You have no idea how much I’ve missed you.”

Jethro pillowed Tony’s head in the hollow of his shoulder and circled his back with one arm, holding him tight while cradling the nape of his neck and resting his cheek against the soft disorder the wind had created of his hair.

“I never should have left,” Tony said with a remorseful sigh. “I should have stayed.”

Dropping one hand to Tony’s chest, Jethro pulled back and met the eyes that could still stir his hunger to life with a single glance. “Don’t. Don’t second guess your decision.” A tinge of regret touched his smile. “You did what you thought was right, what was right for you and Gerald, and I was a downright bastard for hounding you to come back to NCIS.”

“You have to understand. I **had** to go. I couldn’t work with you and remain faithful to Gerald.”

Jethro struggled for air when Tony’s mouth found his ear, and not only explored every inch of it but also the sensitive area below. “I won’t lie, DiNozzo. It hurt like hell when I discovered you had requested an immediate transfer, and I’ll admit I didn’t like it and fought against your leaving for the longest time. But after speaking with Gerald, I somehow found the strength to let you go.”

“And Gerald held true to his promise. We came as soon as you called,” Tony affirmed. “Of course, that sneaky bastard kept me in the dark until his sister, Genevieve, relayed your message.” Tony glanced over his shoulder at Gerald’s approach. “Wanna to tell him how I reacted to the news?”

Gerald smiled ruefully while rubbing his hands over his behind. “Let’s just say the flight from San Diego to D.C. was way too long for someone who’s had his butt thoroughly paddled and fucked.”

Jethro willingly offered his hand when Gerald reached out his.

“Truthfully?” Gerald asked. “You’d’ve thought he’d won the lottery. Once he got over his snit about being kept in the dark, he was ecstatic.”

“A snit?” Jethro questioned.

Gerald shared a private smile with Tony while tenderly rubbing his lover’s shoulders. “A certain someone and I’m not mentioning any names but this certain someone, who supposedly is an expert at stealth, was listening in on private phone calls and completely misunderstood what he heard. There was panic, followed by a snit the likes of which I’ve never seen. And believe you me, in my years of taking care of my nine nieces and nephews, I’ve seen my share of snits. His was epic.”

Gerald grinned. “Have to say though, I thoroughly enjoyed the physical expressions of his gratitude once he got over his tantrum.”

Reluctantly releasing Tony, Jethro squared off with Gerald. “Are you sure about this? I’m not an easy man to live with, just ask my three ex-wives. I’m not a gentle lover and sure as hell, I’m no romantic. What you see is what you get.”

Gerald pulled Tony to his side and accepted the kiss offered to him. “It’s not me you have to explain yourself to, Gibbs. You’ll be sharing a bed with Tony, not me. I’m into him,” he nodded his head at Tony, “not you.”

Jethro took a step back, knowing full well the look on his face reflected the confusion he felt clouding his thoughts. “I’m sorry, I thought---”

Gerald stopped him in his tracks. “We’ll be a threesome, Gibbs but only because we both love the same person.” The man reached out a hand and gripped his arm. “I’m not saying I’m totally adverse to a future relationship with you but the operative word in that sentence is _future_ , as in _way, way in the future_.” Gerald looked at Tony and his somber features softened.

“I love this man and would do just about anything to make him happy. Accepting you into our lives is the least I could do. But . . .”

Gerald fixed him with a look that warned him to walk the straight and narrow or else. His next words confirmed his assessment.

“You hurt him, Gibbs, you cause him pain in any way and you’re a dead man. I know how to expertly dispose of a body and I won’t hesitate to bury your sorry ass if Tony suffers because of you.”

Gerald took a step closer to him and placed a hand over his chest. “As to us, we’ll see. I’m not partial to bastards and you’ve got a long way to go to prove you’re worthy of my love. Tony’s love, hands down, you’ve got it. Mine? You’re gonna have to earn it, Marine.”

Jethro frowned. He didn’t know if he should salute Jackson or slap some sense into that damn head of his. As if he would do anything to jeopardize this second chance Fate had handed him. Hurt Tony? Not now, not ever if he had anything to do with it. He’d learned his lesson. He’d listened to Cam, had accepted the past and the role he’d played in it. He would **NOT** repeat those mistakes again, not as long as he drew breath.

Craning his neck just a tad, (and wasn’t that something he was going to have to get used to) he looked Jackson in the eye before touching the hand sheltering his heart. “I step out of line, and I, myself, will help you dig my grave.”

“Boys, boys. Lighten up. This is a reunion of the hearts. A joyous day, I do declare,” Tony announced with a Southern accent that had everyone cringing.

“Slick, Scarlet O’Hara, you’re not.”

Tony pouted and Jethro couldn’t resist; he slapped the back of his head with complete affection. “You haven’t changed one bit, have you, DiNozzo?” He turned his gaze on Jackson and offered a genuine, albeit, somewhat hesitant smile. “Thanks for making an old man happy.”

“You’re welcome.”

A pair of lean hips rocked forward and came in contact with his groin, causing a hiss of air to whistle through his pursed lips. “Jesus, DiNozzo. People are watching.”

“Let ‘em watch, Boss. I’ve waited too long for this.”

“You and me both.” Making sure that Jackson was sticking close beside them, Jethro lifted both his hands to the back of Tony’s neck and exerted a gentle pressure, delighting in the soft strands that tangled around his fingers when their mouths met again in a kiss that sizzled with pure heat. He could feel Jackson’s captivated gaze fixed upon them while he re-familiarized himself with Tony’s broad shoulders, his muscular chest and the rock solid ass that had fed his fantasies for countless months.

They finally broke apart, and Tony immediately turned his attention to Gerald, embracing him and kissing him until the two of them were panting for breath. A brief visual tour of their bodies had Jethro attempting to take a step back in order to give them a modicum of privacy but his arm was caught in a steel grip. Before he could protest he was pulled close, not by Tony but by Jackson.

“Don’t,” Jackson insisted. “Don’t remove yourself from the equation.”

Callused fingers brushed a trail of heat along his jaw and down his throat.

“Tony loves us both, Gibbs and I don’t mind you witnessing the love he has for me.”

Tony’s groan of unadulterated lust drew both of their gazes.

“Fuck! The thought of you,” he nodded at Gerald, “watching me with him.” Struggling for breath, Tony reached out a hand to Jethro, “Or you, watching the two of us … hell, I swear I’m gonna explode in my jeans just thinking about it.”

Tony moaned again and Jethro couldn’t resist capturing the sound with another toe-curling, dick-saluting kiss. “God, I want to fuck you, right now, right here,” he whispered hotly in Tony’s ear.

“Where’s a bed when you need one?” Tony whispered back.

Jethro willingly provided a detailed answer of what they would do once they found a bed, and by the time he was finished the two of them were clutching at each other and groaning with pent-up frustration.

Tony was the first to regain his control and take an unsteady step back. Jethro followed suit a few seconds later, and when he got a glimpse of Tony’s face, he discovered a familiar cheeky grin aimed in his direction.

“Permission to come aboard, Skipper?”

Shaking his head at the new title he knew he would now be forced to endure, Jethro looked over his shoulder at the two men who waited patiently behind him. “Well, gentlemen? Is this crew willing to accept two new members into its ranks?”

He smiled, remembering how hesitant Ducky had been when he was informed of Gerald’s plan. He, himself, had been witness to many of the late night, long-distance calls Ducky had made to his former assistant in the past few months, and it had taken quite a bit of reassurance both on Gerald’s part and on his before their doubting Thomas was satisfied. “Well? What’s the word?”

Napoleon Solo stepped forward and warmly shook hands with Tony and Gerald, smiling with amusement when he was introduced as Ducky’s former dashing playboy lover-slash-now retired top-secret agent. Once introductions were complete, Ducky wrapped his arms around the two younger men and shared with them a hug that spoke of endearing affection and welcome.

Also finding himself the recipient of a Mallard hug, Jethro laughed. “Guess that answers my question.” He returned the embrace while whispering his grateful appreciation in the ear of his most trusted friend. “Thanks for keeping me sane this past year. Wouldn’t have made it without your help.”

“You are most welcome, Jethro.” Ducky pulled free and started waving his arms around. “Now, batten down the hatches, cast off the lines and hoist the sails. We have clear skies and smooth sailing ahead. Let’s get started on this new adventure of yours.”

Jethro glanced at the two men he would soon be sharing a life with. “Yeah, new adventure. Let’s definitely get started on that.”

 

  
The End

 

This story now has a sequel . . . [Working on the New Equation](http://archiveofourown.org/works/6250738). Enjoy!

**Author's Note:**

> First . . . thanks for reading! 
> 
> Second . . . if you find any blinding mistakes, let me know. I've left this fandom and my memory of Seasons 1-2 may be faulty! ;-)
> 
> Third . . . [You can follow me and my eclectic tastes on Tumblr!](http://angelise7.tumblr.com/)


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